


Chasing After Perfection

by Sosh_022



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Sports, F/F, Pining, Winter Olympics AU, figure skating, josie learns to be her own person, penelope doing her best to get josie there, posie are rivals but also best of friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sosh_022/pseuds/Sosh_022
Summary: Posie as US Figure Skaters and their journey to the Winter Olympics.
Relationships: Penelope Park/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 63
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jed is Penelope's younger brother in this.  
> Hosie friendship.  
> Lizzie is still Josie's twin, but she doesn't figure skate so she doesn't show up...like at all.  
> Disclaimer: I don't figure skate.

_Skate America_

_Chicago, Illinois_

_October 20th, 2016_

_3:21pm_

Finally alone, Josie bends down to re-tie her laces one more time even though they aren’t even loose. She just needs something to preoccupy her hands so she can clear her mind —  the pre-competition press conference had been more brutal than usual and she hasn’t been able to catch a break since. 

Plus, one could never be too sure. Loose laces meant instant death on the ice. 

“So, you ready?”

Josie jerks up at the voice, unable to hold back her expression of surprise (and not just because the words were spoken to her in Japanese, not English). She eyes the familiar head of short raven hair hidden underneath a low cap and feels her own lips soften into a small smile. Even though the rest of the girl’s face is hidden by a pair of large fashionable sunglasses and a face mask, Josie knows exactly who it is. 

She’d know that voice anywhere.

“You came after all,” Josie murmurs, replying in Japanese as she ducks her head once more to finish tying her left skate. Whispers break out around them as the reporters in the room all turn and watch them converse in Japanese with badly veiled hunger in their eyes.

“Hey, who’s that girl talking to Josie?”

“I don’t know. I don’t recognize her. Perhaps a friend from a different country? They’re speaking Japanese.”

“I can’t get a clear shot of her face.”

“They must be close though if Josie is talking to her right now before her turn.”

“How’d she even get back here anyways? It’s not accessible to the public.”

“A close friend then.”

“What are they saying? Dammit, where’s my Japanese translator when I need him?”

Josie ignores all of them and focuses only on the raven haired girl. It’s not a hard task for her at all. Even fact, it’s almost default for her whenever she is with the raven haired girl. 

The other girl in return keeps her gaze fixed solely on Josie and it makes Josie want to preen with all the attention she’s being given. 

“Nice get up,” Josie mutters, her voice catching in the back of her throat and she curses herself mentally. Just how obvious is she? Damn the other girl for always having that effect on her. “Completely inconspicuous,” she jokes after clearing her throat in an attempt to wrestle her feelings back under control. “How did you get back here? Only athletes and coaches are allowed back here.”

The raven haired girl lowers her face mask, exposing a small nose and dainty lips, and lets out a light chuckle. Josie feels her heart skip a beat because, oh god, that smile. 

“I have my ways,” the girl answers vaguely, and Josie can almost _see_ the mischief that must be dancing across those brown eyes in her mind. Josie takes in the other girl's presence hungrily — trying and desperately failing, to ignore the way the girl’s smile sends her stomach into a frenzy of butterflies. No, that’s just the competition jitters. She’s just nervous. ~~Not in love with her best friend and rival.~~

The girl flashes the pass that hangs around her neck in Josie’s direction. Josie just manages to catch the word “Coach” printed in bold letters on the pass. She wonders how the raven haired girl even got a ‘Coach’ pass, but knowing the other girl, it probably wasn’t too difficult. 

“Besides, am I not an athlete?” the girl shrugs with an easy going grin. 

Josie shakes her head in amusement. ”Are you sure you should be wasting your time here? Shouldn’t you be practicing?” she teases, but deep down there is nothing she wouldn’t give to keep the raven haired girl here within reach. This entire time, she'd felt so out of balance, so _incomplete_ without the other girl's presence by her side like it'd always had been. Now that she's here, Josie feels right again. 

“I’m scoping out my competition for this season,” the girl jokes and Josie fights the urge to roll her eyes, because no one, _no one_ in the entire world, could rival the girl in front of her — no matter how hard Josie herself tries to. 

They are rivals, yet Josie can’t help but find herself always a step behind the raven haired girl, always chasing after her shadow, hoping for the raven haired girl to turn her head and look back at her. Just once. 

“Besides, a day of rest won’t hurt me. I had a three hour practice this morning and again at night, anyways,” the girl states, watching Josie go through her pre-routine stretches with a sort of intense focus that makes Josie lose _her_ focus. 

Josie gathers up all of the bravado she has and smirks up at the other girl. “Scoping out your competition? Who else is there to watch besides the skaters on our team? You see us skate practically everyday.”

The raven haired girl only shrugs. “I heard the Russians were doing pretty good this season.” 

Josie scoffs out loud this time, which earns her a small knowing smile. Sure, the Russians are doing better than last season. But still, compared to them, and mostly compared to the raven haired girl in front of her, they aren’t even a threat. No one really is. 

“Does your brother know you’re here?” Josie asks this time, averting her eyes to the ground because even though she’d known the other girl for ten years, even though they’d been friends for eight, Josie _still_ can’t look at her for too long without blushing. 

Josie does not get an answer right away, and that in itself is telling enough. So when the raven haired girl finally tells her “No,” she isn’t surprised. 

Josie frowns. If the raven haired girl isn't here for her brother, then why was she here? Unless… Josie mentally shakes her head. 

_‘Don’t go there, Josie. Don’t do this to yourself.’_

Instead, she asks, “Why not? I’m sure he would be ecstatic to know you’re watching him. He was wondering where you were earlier.” 

The raven haired girl shakes her head. “No it would only give him even more pressure. You know how he is. He’ll start getting all these unnecessary thoughts and get distracted.”

Josie hums, forcing her mind to stray away from dangerous thoughts. “So that’s why you hid the fact that you were coming.” 

_‘Yet you’re here now, in front of me. Why?’_

Josie is unable to keep the hope from seeping into her chest. Because the other girl is here. She came for her. Not for her brother. Not for anyone else. Josie ducks her chin even more and hides a grin. Slowly, she stands up and looks up. Their faces are only inches away from each other and Josie can clearly see her reflection in the raven haired girl’s sunglasses. 

“Well,” Josie speaks, her voice taking on a lower, huskier quality that surprises even herself. “Wish me luck.”

The raven haired girl raises an eyebrow. “Like you need luck to win.”

Josie lets out a breathy laugh. “True.” She’s suddenly reaching up slowly with her hands and before her mind can even process what’s happening, she takes off the raven haired girl’s sunglasses. Brown eyes clash with brown eyes and for a second Josie forgets what it’s like to breathe. 

Taking a deep breath, Josie leans forward, quickly enough that she doesn’t lose courage halfway through, but slowly enough that she leaves the most delicate of kisses on the raven haired girl’s cheeks. She presses her hand against the other girl’s and feels the her take her sunglasses back. 

And then Josie's walking past her —  the adrenaline of her bold actions carrying her away from the other girl. She stops right in front of the door. She feels the eyes of every reporter and a couple of athletes as well watching her and she ignores them all. 

“Pen,” she calls out, back still to the raven haired girl.

“Yes?”

Josie hears the press around them break into a collective gasp as they finally realize who the raven haired girl is. There’s a flurry of movement but Josie tunes them all out. 

“Will you watch me?” Josie asks.

“Of course,” the raven haired girl answers as if she’d never planned to do otherwise and Josie’s heart blooms. 

“Hey! Isn't that-!?”

“That is!”

“What is she doing here?!”

“How dare she show her face?!”

“Good.” Josie takes a deep breath, biting back her anger at the reporter’s comment. Instead, she focuses on the raven haired girl’s voice. “Because I will be skating for you.” 

Josie holds her breath, releasing it only when she hears the raven haired girl chuckling. 

“Then skate your best. I will accept nothing best.”

Josie smirks. “Of course.” And with that, she’s exiting out of the waiting area and stepping onto the ice arena. 

It is time to win. 

As soon as Josie leaves, the raven haired girl quickly puts her disguise back on and slips past the hoard of reporters trying to shove their recorders into her face and shouting her name.

“Penelope Park! A word please!”

“Ms. Park, do you have a minute?” 

“Ms. Park! Ms. Park!” 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


_July, 2016_

_Three months ago…._

“What is the meaning of this?” Josie demands, thrusting a piece of paper into the raven haired girl’s face. “US Figure Skating just released the list of athletes competing in the Grand Prix series this season. Your name isn't on here.”

Penelope scans the paper. “Indeed it isn't.” She says nonchalantly before returning her attention back to a video of some Russian skater. Josie eyes the name of the athlete in the video and fights back the hint of jealousy that sits bitterly in her chest. She wonders if the raven haired girl ever studies her videos, ever spends hours late into the night obsessing over her technique like she’s done multiple times over Penelope’s competition videos. 

“Well?” Josie pushes, because Penelope answered nothing. ”Is there some sort of mistake?”

“Hm I wonder…” Penelope mumbles, clearly distracted.

“So you're competing?” Josie insists. The Federation just made a mistake. That’s why Penelope’s name isn’t on the list. After all, the raven haired girl not competing just doesn’t make sense. Of course Penelope is competing. 

“No.”

“What.” Josie has a hard time wrapping her mind around the answer. “Why?” Josie asks, incomprehension filling every inch of her body. 

Penelope finally looks up from her video and hardens her gaze on Josie. 

Josie stops and her heart drops. She recognizes the look. Penelope is disappointed. In her. 

Penelope sighs and shakes her head, the sight only making Josie even more desperate to understand what she’s done. “And here I thought you’d understand the best.”

Josie fights back a pang in her chest. Those words hurt her more than she’d care to admit. 

Josie takes a deep breath, half to collect her thoughts and half to make sure she doesn’t just burst into tears in front of the other girl. Josie could only imagine Penelope’s reaction if she did. 

“Why?” Josie asks weakly. She _wants_ to understand. 

Penelope eyes her somewhat pitifully and Josie can’t help but feel that the distance between them is suddenly so far —  that the raven haired girl is so unreachable —  even though they’re not even two feet apart from each other. Josie hates it. 

“You know how important this season is, as well as I do,” the raven haired girl starts. 

Josie nods. She knows just how important this season is. After all, the next season is the Winter Olympics, which means they have to do well this season in order to qualify for the Olympics. And since they are both bordering on the older side of the sport, it would be their last Olympics, their last chance at Olympic glory. 

“I do,” Josie lets out shakily, can’t even pretend to have her voice under her control if she tried. “Which is all the more reason you _should_ be competing. I don’t understand.”

Penelope shakes her head. “No. I don’t have _time_ to be wasting on competing.”

Josie stares at Penelope like she’s grown another head. She lets out a disbelieving laugh. “What are you talking about? _Wasting_ your time on competing? How can you _waste_ time on competing? Competing is the only way you can even qualify to compete-”

“Josette.”

Josie stops short once more. Penelope rarely calls her by her full name. It’s always Jo or JoJo. 

Penelope lets the corner of lip curl up into the slightest smile and Josie hates the way her eyes are drawn to the movement no matter how subtle. “I am taking a break to perfect my program. To create one that is worthy of the Olympics. Sure, my current program is great and I’m sure I won’t have trouble winning with it if I tried, but...I feel like I can do better, you know? I want to go to the next level and my current program —  it’s boring. And I can’t focus on perfecting my program if I’m busy thinking about competition. Does that make sense?”

Josie takes a deep breath. She takes a moment to comprehend the girl’s reasoning. She lets out the breath slowly through her nose. Then she breaks into laughter. 

Of course. _Of course_ that’s why. 

Winning means nothing to an athlete who’s won the Grand Prix for the past five years in a row and the World Championships for the past three.

Josie understands now. She _understands_ how only a person like Penelope can come to such a conclusion. Everyone else, including her, would never dare think of such a strategy. To them, competition is necessary. Winning is necessary. 

However to Penelope, this was never about just winning or about beating everyone else currently in the sport. This is about beating _everyone — _ herself, everyone that ever competed in the sport, and everyone that _will_ ever compete in the sport. This is about making a permanent mark in the long history of figure skating. 

As a friend and a lover of the sport, she understands. 

As a rival, she’s in awe and slightly envious. 

Penelope is on another level that she can’t even hope to be at. 

Josie finally looks up at Penelope. “Fine. When you come back, you better be unbeatable. If I beat you even once -”

Penelope smirks, relieved that Josie understood. She knew she could count on the brunette. “As if I’ll let you beat me. Not with that axel of yours.”

Josie scoffs. The raven haired girl always comes for her axel. “So the Grand Prix…The Federation is going to be angry. You’re giving up America’s five year winning streak.”

Penelope raises her eyebrow and the soft smile she sends her makes Josie's heart beat out of control. “You’re still competing, aren’t you? I’ll leave that streak to you.” 

And Josie is stunned into silence. It was so calmly, so matter-of-factly, as if Penelope has no doubts about Josie's ability. She only hopes that she has enough confidence in herself as Penelope does in her. 

One thing is for sure though. 

She is not letting that gold go to anyone else. Not when Penelope is counting on her to continue her streak. 

“You can count on me.”

The smile she gets in return motivates her even through the toughest of practices for the next few months. 

* * *

  
  
  
  


_August, 2016_

“That's what I said but…” Josie stares at the news article on her phone. The headline glares back at her. 

_Can Josette Saltzman protect the American winning streak in the Grand Prix?_

_Because of her teammate, Penelope Park, the US currently holds the title as the five time winner of the Grand Prix Figure Skating Series, a feat never accomplished prior to Park. Can Saltzman, who's always played second fiddle to Park, protect this streak or is this it for the US? In the past five Grand Prix Series, Saltzman placed three times on the podium, with two silvers and one bronze. Unlike Park, Saltzman is less consistent in her skating as shown by her performance at last year’s World Championships when she fell in both her short and free skate programs, dropping her out of medal contention into 6th place._

Josie sighs. “They sure are harsh.”

“Don’t tell me you actually read that trash.” 

Josie looks up from her phone and sees Hope, another teammate of hers and Penelope’s, peering down at her screen. 

“Don’t want to be blindsided during the press conference,” Josie deflects and clicks away to another article. This time, the headline reads, “Was the Pressure Too Much? - Park to Not Compete In 2016-2017 Season,” and Josie fights back a rush of anger in defense for her friend. These reporters would never understand. 

Hope purses her lips disapprovingly as she searches Josie as if looking for signs that Josie will crack, that she _is_ cracking under all this pressure. She seems to find none though as the uncertain look quickly disappears. 

And Josie wants to take offense at that but all she finds is dark humor. Everyone around her seems to be looking at her differently these days. Ever since news of Penelope’s decision to drop the Grand Prix this season spread to the media, people have been eyeing her differently, almost cautiously as if they were all watching to see if she would break under the pressure. 

Did they all happen to forget that she is a seasoned veteran too? That she has one Grand Prix gold and two World Championship golds under her name? That she is ranked just under Penelope in the world standings at number two? 

_‘Is this what Penelope felt these past five years?’_ she wonders solemnly to herself. 

“Don’t listen to everything they say though,” Hope advises. 

Josie can only snort at that. She remembers telling the red head the exact same thing only a few years ago. She is the senior in the industry after all. She’s had her fair share of butting heads with the press.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

* * *

  
  
  


_Skate America, USA_

_October 20th, 2016_

_8:33am_

Josie walks into the Figure Skating Training Center’s mess hall and notices she’s the last one to arrive. The rest of the US Skating Team is already there eating breakfast. Quietly of course, because competition is finally here, and everyone’s too nervous to engage in small talk. 

Hope raises an eyebrow as Josie takes her seat next to her. She leans in. 

“I saw you coming out of Penelope’s room this morning.”

Josie ignores Hope in favor of piling eggs onto her plate. Hope grins in amusement as Josie refuses to acknowledge nor deny her statement, not knowing that her silence is confirmation enough. If Josie hears Hope’s muttering “whipped” into her tea, she gives no indication. 

Once Josie’s done eating she calls out to the younger members on the team. “Jed, MG. Are you guys done?”

They nod, their faces paler than usual due to nerves, and their breakfast only half eaten. On the inside, Josie feels the same, but she’s a veteran at competing now and refuses to let it show. 

“Then let's go.” 

They grab their stuff and get into a van. Jed stands by the car door hesitating, as if waiting for someone and Josie’s heart clenches in sympathy because she knows that Penelope isn’t coming. The raven haired girl left Josie asleep in bed at five in the morning for private training. So she pushes the boy into the car and they drive to the rink.

They’re all getting ready in their own little corner when Hope walks up to her. “So she’s not coming, huh?”

Josie shoots Hope a glance out of the corner of her eyes. “She doesn’t need to.”

Hope remains silent but no matter how much Josie tries to put on a strong front, she can see right through the other girl —  the way her eyes seem to involuntarily look to her left, expecting to see a certain raven haired girl next to her on ice, only to look away in disappointment when reality hits her; the way her head perks up almost imperceptibly whenever a raven haired girl passes by or whenever someone mentions Penelope’s name, which is _a lot._

Out of sight does not always mean out of mind. 

Josie ignores everything the reporters say around her. They badger her with questions asking if she’s capable of winning the Grand Prix.

_‘I’ve won it before, those idiots. It’s not like I’ve never won a Grand Prix before.’_

Someone mentions Penelope’s name as they walk through a noisy hallway and Josie finds herself tuning in against her will. The reporter asks if Penelope is fine, or if she gave up. Was the pressure of winning again too much for her so she dumped it on Josie instead?

Josie stops midstep. Hope walks into her back. 

“Josie?”

Josie looks at the reporter that spoke out of the corner of her eye and draws herself to her tallest height. Her voice rings out clear and crisp. 

“Penelope did not run away from the pressure. She is merely preparing for the Olympics. She has entrusted me with the task of winning the Grand Prix, which if you’ll excuse me, I will do just that.” She says before continuing her walk. The flashing of cameras only increases as the reporters become even excited for more information. 

Hope sighs once behind her before following along. 

“Did I say too much?” Josie whispers once they’re out of earshot.

“Maybe.”Hope mumbles. ”But does it really matter?’

Josie steels herself. 

“No.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


_Skate America Press Conference_

_October 20th, 2016_

_11:09 am_

Josie dreads the press conference. She already knows the reporters are going to drill her —  on Penelope, on keeping up America’s win streak. 

She just wants to compete and get it over with at this point. 

They start out easy, and Josie is relieved that the reporters seem more focused on the other athletes. 

Finally, a reporter stands up and just by the way he eyes her, hungry and relentless, Josie knows it’s not going to be nice. 

“Ms. Saltzman, I have a question regarding your teammate, Ms. Park,” the reporter begins and Josie fights back an exasperated sigh. Here it comes. 

She leans forward into the microphone and recites the answer she was told to give by US Figure Skating before the reporter can continue. “Ms. Park will not be competing today. Please, if you have another question, I would be glad to-”

“But that’s just it isn’t it? Why isn’t she competing?” the reporter presses. 

Josie’s nose flares at the being cut off, but sadly, this is not uncommon given that she is a female so she holds in her ire. 

“Has the pressure gotten to her head? Is it true she dropped because she fears she cannot keep her streak up? Or is she injured?” The reporter continues on. 

Next to her, Josie feels Hope stiffening up from the interrogation in anger. As the older, more experienced athlete, Josie knows it’s her responsibility to handle situations like these before they got too out of hand. She opens her mouth to speak but either this bull-headed reporter does not see her, or he sees her and ignores her anyway. 

_'The nerve of this reporter...'_

“She’s betraying her country by refusing to compete. She’s running away from responsibility. How do you feel to have all this pressure dumped on you? Do you also feel that she’s betr-”

Josie stands up in anger, surprising everyone else because she’s usually very calm and cool headed. Penelope was always the more passionate one, never afraid to speak her mind. Josie was always the more diplomatic one. Yet here she is. 

She feels her teammates eyeing her with pity but also anger for their friend and teammate. She feels her competitors eyeing her with sympathy because they know what’s it like to get cornered by the press. She feels her coach eyeing her with a warning look, because she’s definitely about to do something rash. And she ignores them all. 

She grabs the mic. “Penelope is _not_ a traitor -- not to _me_ , not to her teammates, not to America, not to the sport --- and I _will win_ the Grand Prix for America.” 

She glares at the reporter for emphasis. “Any other questions?” she forces out. Her eyes sweeps the room. 

No one talks. 

Josie huffs and sits back down. 

Next to her Hope smirks. “Can’t wait to see the headlines tomorrow.”

Josie ignores her. The reporters leave her alone for the rest of the press conference after that. Josie considers it a win. 

Back at the training center, Penelope laughs. 

“What are you watching?” her coach asks. “Don’t tell me you’re slacking off.”

Penelope shakes her head and shows her coach the live stream of the press conference. “No, just watching to see how JoJo is handling our first competition apart.”

“Having second thoughts about not competing?” her coach smirks. 

“On the contrary,” Penelope grins back. “I feel more reassured than ever. JoJo is doing just fine.”

“Then get back on the ice.”

“Yes ‘mam! But oh, I need to be somewhere in an hour, so can we finish up early today?”

Her coach looks at her in surprise. "You never ask to leave early. In fact I always have to kick you out of the ice rink for all the electricity you're wasting." The coach narrows her eyes at her student. "Where are you going? Who are you meeting? It must be special if you're willing to cut practice short because of it. A date perhaps?" she teases but to her surprise, Penelope grins back. 

"Something like that," the raven haired girl hums happily before skating back into the middle of the ice rink. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Josie wins, because of course she does. She promised she would and with Penelope watching there was no way she wasn’t going to win. 

She lands all of her jumps and even sets a personal record for her free skate, putting her more than fifteen points above the runner up. 

She’s not alone in her joy, as Hope snatches the silver and MG manages bronze by the tiniest margin for men's skating. Jed comes in sixth, which isn’t bad for the kid’s first time competing in the adult league. Overall, the US dominates Skate America which makes sense because it _is_ home turf. 

Hence, the killer after party.

Josie however, has other plans in mind. 

Instead, she steps out into the light, the cold air enveloping her skin. She sits down at a bench nearest to the rink and watches as the lone skater makes her towards her. 

“Shouldn’t you be at the after party right now?” Penelope asks once she’s close enough. Josie takes a moment to take in the pretty blush of pink on Penelope’s cheeks and the tousled black hair. It is entirely unfair how attractive the other girl could be even after hours of intense training. 

“Why would I party? The Grand Prix isn’t over yet,” Josie answers seriously causing Penelope to chuckle.

“Maybe, but you did just win the American Cup. You deserve some rest after competing,” says Penelope, leaning against the rink wall so she is as close to Josie as possible. 

“But you’re not resting,” Josie points out stubbornly. 

Penelope laughs again. “I’m not the one that just competed, but fine. Come join me. Might as well work on those axels of your before you go to the finals.”

Josie raises her eyebrow. “I still have to win another competition before I even qualify for the finals.”

Penelope raises her own eyebrow in amusement. “Are you saying you won’t make it to the finals?”

Josie steels her look into one of determination. “Of course I’ll definitely make it. I’m going to win it.”

Penelope smiles. “That’s what I thought.”

She holds out her hand and Josie takes it, stepping back onto the ice for the second time that day. 

They work on axles and Josie gets a sneak peek at what Penelope has been working on. And as she watches Penelope skate across the ice with a gracefulness and precision that only the raven haired girl is capable of, Josie feels her heart clench with want. 

“I chase and I chase after you. Yet you’re still so far from me.”

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  


At the after party, people are constantly looking for Josie, wanting to congratulate her on her flawless win and new personal record. They come up to Hope who only smiles and shakes her head. The last time she’d seen the girl was an hour after the award ceremony. 

Eventually, Jed leans in to whisper, “Where _is_ Josie?”

Hope smiles knowingly. “Who knows,” she shrugs, sipping casually on her beer. But of course, she knows exactly where Josie is. 

Right by Penelope’s side, like she always is. 

  
  


The next day, the headlines are raving about Josie. Surprisingly however, they are not about her win at Skate America, or even about her declaration of intent to win the Grand Prix. Instead, there's a picture of Josie kissing a covered up Penelope on the cheek backstage with the accompanying headline, "A Kiss for Good Luck. US Skaters Park and Saltzman Dating?"

Hope does not let Josie hear the end of her teasing. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

_US National Training Center_

_October 29, 2016_

_7:49am_

Josie makes her way down the hallway like she’s done hundreds of times before and soon finds herself standing in front of a familiar door. The name _Penelope Park_ printed clearly in some generic font, stares back at her mockingly. 

The door is slightly ajar and Josie hears the distinctly muffled noises of someone moving things around inside the room. Not bothering to knock, Josie pulls the door open and steps inside. 

The main occupant of the room doesn’t seem to hear her come in. With earphones shoved in her ears, the raven haired girl is hunched over a half packed suitcase while happily humming along to a tune. Josie decides to take a moment to take in the rest of the room, not ready to face the other girl just yet, to face the fact that she is leaving — the training center, America, _her_. 

Despite the clothes messily strewn all over the bed and chairs, the room is inexplicably bare. Most of Penelope’s belongings have already been packed away into neat little suitcases all lined up against the wall in the corner. The sight makes Josie want to cry. 

Almost five years of living together in the training center, and it’s this easy to just pack everything up and leave?

Penelope’s little display of polaroids, polaroids which held important memories of both her and Josie, is now empty and barren, almost as if those memories never even happened in the first place. 

Slowly, Penelope is erasing her existence from this room, from this rink, from Josie. Yup, Josie is definitely going to be cry. 

The tune Penelope is humming catches Josie’s attention. She recognizes the melody and almost chuckles despite it all. 

“Is that the _Frozen_ soundtrack?” she can’t help but mock as she leans against the door. 

Penelope whirls around, finally aware of Josie’s presence, and pulls an earbud out. She shoots Josie a sardonic smirk. 

“It is. I’m trying to decide on music for my new program.”

“No,” Josie fake gasps. “Skating to ‘ _Let It Go_ ’? Please don’t tell me you’re going to be that cliché.” 

Penelope only chuckles and for a second, all is well as laughter rings out between the two of them. 

But then, Penelope goes back to packing and silence is back, heavy as ever. So many words unspoken lie between them, but Josie doesn’t know how to start. It doesn’t help that neither of them are great with words. 

Josie does another sweep of the room, the now empty room, and bites back a small sigh. She notices that Penelope is almost done packing and the sinking feeling grows in her gut.

_‘It’s not like she’s not going away forever for goodness sake. Stop being so melodramatic,’_ she scolds herself. 

Still, that doesn’t change the fact that Penelope is leaving. That for the next few months, Josie won’t be able to sit next to the raven haired girl and eat lunch with her; won’t catch glimpses of her on the ice, cheeks red from physical exertion and eyes wild with passion; won’t feel Penelope’s presence constantly pushing her to be better, to improve, won’t feel the rush of almost childish giddy happiness every time she’s in the other girl’s presence. 

Instead, Penelope is going to be a thousand miles away in Canada doing her secret program reforming training. 

“Five months is a long time,” Josie finds herself saying quietly. 

Penelope turns around once more, a folded shirt in her hands. Josie recognizes the shirt, recalls how good the girl looks in that particular shirt. Against her will, her mind somehow pulls up some distant memory of the time they hung out by the park near the training center late at night after practice and how Penelope looked, wearing that shirt and smiling at her under the moonlight while her hair fought the wind. 

Josie fights the wave of sadness that suddenly rushes forward. Her throat is thick with emotion and she has to swallow it down. She blinks and her vision clears. For now. She doubts she’ll be able to keep the tears at bay for long however. She’s not that strong. She’s never been when it came to Penelope. 

The look Penelope gives Josie is so soft, so fond, Josie is sure Penelope has officially spoiled all romantic movies for her, because now she knows what it’s like to be looked like _that._ And _goddammit,_ why can’t she just have her happily ever after?

“Yeah,” Penelope responds, tone equally as gentle. “Next time we see each other it’ll be at Worlds,” says Penelope, her gaze never leaving Josie’s. 

“And then the Olympics,” Josie responds, keeping her voice low. Any louder and she’s scared her voice will crack. Josie hopes she doesn’t sound as resigned as she feels. But if she does, Penelope doesn't seem to pick up on it, too preoccupied with the thoughts of their future. 

“And then the Olympics,” Penelope nods absentmindedly. Her eyes wander, breaking away from Josie and the brunette can’t help the small pang of disappointment. 

“The Olympics,” Penelope repeats, a faraway look now in her eyes and Josie knows she’s lost her. “Right here. In America. At home.”

And Josie loses Penelope to imaginings of what it would be like to compete in her home country, the honor and glory of it all. 

Josie too is lost in thought, but not about the Olympics. That could wait. Instead, she tries to imagine what their reunion would be like. Would the first time they see each other again be at the hotel? Perhaps during breakfast, or while checking in, or even randomly in the hallways as Josie gets ice for her sore muscles. Or perhaps it’ll be at the ice rink, during warm ups, or team practice, or in the changing rooms. 

Either way, it all seems too far into the future. Josie doesn’t know if she could wait that long without seeing the Penelope. 

“Don’t you have practice in five?” Penelope speaks up suddenly. “I wouldn’t want my rival slacking on me just because I’m leaving. If you think you can underestimate me just because I’ll be out of sight-”

Josie snorts. As if she could ever underestimate Penelope. As if she could ever forget just how _good, great, amazing, beautiful, perfect_ of a skater Penelope is no matter how many years passed by. 

“Yeah right, if anything, the uncertainty of how much you’ve improved will probably push me even harder,” says Josie, trying hard to appear unaffected when deep inside, she was crumbling. 

Penelope only grins at her and Josie knows it’s her cue to leave. The weight in her chest seems permanent now. There’s nothing she can do about that. So she steps forward and pulls Penelope into a hug. It’s too brief, and Penelope’s moving away too soon. Josie lets her arms fall helplessly to her side where she keeps them clenched. It takes everything in her to not pull Penelope back into her arms and never let go. 

With one last knowing nod, she turns and leaves the room. 

A single tear makes its way down her cheek as soon as she’s out the door and Josie bites the inside of her lip to keep any more of them from falling. 

_‘Five fucking months.’_

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Penelope leaves the training center with her three suitcases at 9:12am. Josie doesn’t get to say goodbye. She’s too busy catching her breath and listening to her coach’s instructions over the sound of her beating heart. 

Josie is mid jump when she sees the familiar raven haired head disappear down the hallway. By the time she lands, Penelope is already gone. 

Josie lets her go, knowing that if she asked, her coach would probably let her take a break to chase after the other girl and say goodbye properly. But as much as she wants to —  as much as she wants to never let her go —  she doesn’t. 

Instead, she steels her resolve and prepares for another jump — tighter, faster, cleaner than the last one. 

_‘In five months, I refuse to be the only one shocked at how much the other has improved.’_

So Josie pushes herself further. Penelope is no longer here to do it, so she puts extra pressure on herself, pretends that Penelope is right there, scrutinizing her every move. 

And as long as she’s on the ice, she knows that Penelope is never too far away. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Unbeknownst to her, Penelope lingers around the corner, watching Josie silently as she skates across the ice. 

Hope turns the corner down the hallway and sees Penelope peeking in on Josie’s practice. 

“You’re not going to say goodbye?” Hope asks as she approaches. 

Penelope’s eyes don't leave Josie’s form as she answers. “It’s not goodbye though, is it? It’s more of a see you later, no?”

Hope’s face scrunches into a look of confusion. Leave it to Penelope to make things so complicated. She never really understood the girl. No one really did. All of their teammates on the national team and even the officials on the Federation know not to question her sometimes quirky personality. As long as Penelope continued winning championships, they just rolled along with whatever. 

No except Josie of course. Those two always have had some sort of unspoken understanding between them that Hope was never privy to. 

Hope shrugs. “I guess so? Still, five months is a long time. It’s not like you’re just visiting your family for the weekend. You aren’t going to talk to her before you leave?”

Penelope finally turns to look at Hope. “Keep an eye on her will you?” she asks instead, completely ignoring Hope’s question. “And if her right ankle starts bothering her again, let me know.”

“Yeah of course,” Hope acquiesces easily. She would’ve done so even without Penelope asking. It is an unspoken agreement between the teammates. Here, miles away from their families, they only have each other so they look after each like family.

Hope then frowns, her mind lingering on the second half of Penelope’s request. “Is her old injury acting up again? I didn’t know it was hurting. She seemed fine the past few practices.”

However, Penelope does not respond. Hope says nothing as she picks up her suitcase again and walks away. She watches her leave and then sighs, shaking her head. 

Hope peeks around the corner and watches Josie skate for a few minutes. She focuses extra on the girl’s ankle but it seems fine. Josie’s landings are stable, even if the axel landing isn’t as clean as it should be. 

Still, as Hope walks away, she couldn’t help but feel a bit off by Penelope’s request. 

* * *

  
  
  


_Vancouver, Canada_

_November 2nd, 2016_

_8:33pm_

Penelope lands another triple toe, triple loop combo flawlessly. Her blade lands with a nice clear ring and she lets the momentum carry her wherever. 

Her legs feel like lead from the exertion now so she knows she’s at her limit. If she continues, her form would only get sloppy, so she glides back to the edge of the ice rink, where her new coach stands clapping. 

She skids to a stop and grabs her water bottle, guzzling it down. 

Brian Orser — her new coach and two time silver Olympic medalist —  walks up to her still clapping. 

“Your technique is impeccable,” he compliments, handing her a towel. “Best in the field right now, hands down. Kim and Ivanov wish they could execute axels like yours. We can still work on the take off though, to get you more rotation.”

Penelope takes it gratefully, wiping her face down. She doesn’t respond to any of the compliments Brian sings at her, instead, she leans against the ice rink fence and tries to catch her breath. All the while, she’s aware of Brian’s gaze on her. 

“Tell me,” Brian says, his tone suddenly thoughtful. “Not that I’m not flattered, but why did you suddenly ask me to be your coach especially since you’ve rejected me twice before.”

Penelope hums and takes another sip of her water. She keeps her head down, as if lost in thought. Brian waits.

Then, she’s pushing off the fence and turning to face Brian. “You’re one of the most sought after figure skating coaches in the world,” she states simply. “Is that not enough of a reason?”

Brian knows she’s deflecting. 

“It wasn’t enough for you before,” Brian points out. 

Penelope grins wryly. She shrugs and averts her eyes, looks out to the ice rink instead. From here, it looks so big, just a big white empty field of ice. But when she’s actually out there, it doesn’t feel big enough. 

“I needed to get away from America,” she admits truthfully for the first time. No one knew the true reason why she suddenly decided to leave —  not the Federation, not her teammates, not even her family. No one even questioned her decision however, because anyone else would’ve killed for a chance to train with Brian Orser. 

The only person who had seemed confused and unconvinced was Josie. 

Brian raises an eyebrow. “Teammate issues? Say no more.” He’s been in the industry long enough to know how nasty some of these rivalries could get. 

“No,” Penelope laughs, shaking her head. “No, not at all. I love all my teammates. There’s no animosity there at all. Really.”

“Then why?” Brian asks. 

Penelope sighs. She looks down at the ice. “Do you know my teammate, Josie?” she asks after a second. 

“Josette Saltzman? I’ve watched her skate plenty of times before obviously, but I didn’t pay any particular attention. Why?” Brian answers, wondering where this conversation is going. Penelope makes a face that looks like she’d expected that exact answer from Brian. 

“And what do you think of her skating?” Penelope asks, picking at her leggings. They’re starting to fray. She’ll have to buy new ones later. This brand though. She likes this brand. 

Brian hums. The line of questioning catches him off guard so he takes a second to consider the question seriously.

“She’s a good skater,” he says slowly. “Of course, that goes without saying. She is ranked second in the world standings. As a skater she has very strong technique. Always had, even as a junior skater. It’s very similar to yours actually, which makes sense since you two were trained together. Her footwork is light and clean. She makes most of her jumps look easy, which is good. She doesn’t always take off correctly on her triple axel, yet still somehow manages to land it most of the time which must put major stress on her ankle.”

Penelope snorts. She thinks back to all the times she’s teased Josie on her triple axel for the same thing. Josie’s technique has gotten better though, over the years. It’s not as bad as it was before. 

Brian shoots her a curious look but continues. “Performance wise, she is also very strong. Strong emotions in every performance. She knows how to play to the audience and the judges.” He shrugs and ends his analysis there, looks at Penelope for guidance. 

Penelope nods. “What would you say is her biggest weakness? As a skater?” she asks. 

Brian frowns. He’s never really paid much attention to Josie, having been much more focused on the American skater currently standing in front of him. “Her jumps?” he provides unsurely. “She’s a bit inconsistent in some of her combos. It cost her the medal contention last year at Worlds, I believe.”

Penelope shakes her head. “Though that’s true, that’s not her main weakness.” She pauses then and Brian finds himself waiting for an answer with quite a bit of anticipation. 

Penelope takes in a deep breath. “She’s forgettable.”

Brian blinks. That’s a rather harsh thing for someone to say of their teammate. He doesn't know how to react. Because _“forgettable”_ isn’t exactly the word he’d use to describe, again, the _second best_ skater in the _world_ in ladies’ figure skating. 

“And it’s not because she’s not good, because _she is_ ,” Penelope insists. “There’s rarely a skater out there today that can match her in skill, technique or performance quality. It’s because she has no confidence in herself.”

Brian releases a breath. He’s starting to see where this is all going now. 

“And _for years_ , it’s confused me,” Penelope admits with a small frown. “Because why would she - what reason does she have - _her of all people_ \- to be so unconfident in herself? And then it hit me.”

Penelope looks up, meeting Brian’s gaze squarely. She takes a deep breath and Brian can clearly see the pain dancing across her eyes. “It’s me. I’m the reason why.”

Penelope pauses, lets the admission hang heavily in her chest for a second, lets the regret rush in, before she’s continuing. 

“Josie has gotten too comfortable with second place. She puts me on a pedestal. She looks at me and sees this unreachable, unobtainable, _perfect_ model skater. She's never going to get anywhere with that attitude of hers because she’s already accepted the title of second best and doesn’t even think about winning anymore. And how _stupid_ is that?” Penelope asks, getting riled up. 

“Who wants to compete against someone who’s already given up before they’ve even started? There’s no point in being in first if the second place winner isn’t even going to _try_ to take you down. I’d rather be second then,” Penelope states resolutely. She takes a deep breath, calms down. 

“In order for her to break out of that mindset, for her to appreciate _her own_ skills and stop _glorifying_ mine, I had to leave,” Penelope states almost defiantly. “Even if I really didn’t want to. It’s for her own good. Now, she’ll be able to concentrate on herself, find what kind of skater she is without my presence constantly blocking her.”

“The world too, will finally see her for the skater she is,” Penelope declares confidently and it’s almost as if there is live fire dancing in her eyes. “America will win gold in 2018 and it will be a fight between rivals of _equal_ strength, one that figure skating history will never forget.”

Brian waits but Penelope’s done talking. Unable to help himself, he bursts out laughing. Penelope watches him with a small frown. 

“Well said. Well said!” he laughs. “I love this determination. And everyone knows that every good athlete has a good rival. Normally, I would be wary if a skater showed this much arrogance right off the bat because that gold medal is not truly yours until you win it - anything can happen in a year. You can break an ankle or suffer a knee injury or whatever - but honestly, I just can’t wait to work with a student who’s so determined.” He chuckles and eyes Penelope playfully. 

“Though I will say that if I do see signs of you growing a big head, I will snuff it out and beat it back down,” warns Brian lightly. “Greater careers than yours have ended prematurely because of an ego issue.”

Penelope smirks. “Too late then. My head’s already far too big for my body.” And with that retort, she’s sprinting back into the center of the rink, gliding through the ice at high speeds. 

Brian watches her go with a small huff as he smiles to himself. It looks like he’ll find himself yet again, back at the Olympics in a little more than a year. If there is anyone that could take him there and win it all, it is Penelope Park. 

He makes a mental note to study Josette Saltzman’s videos a little more closely for next time. 

* * *

  
  
  


_Rostelecom Cup, Moscow_

_November 8th, 2016_

_11:52am_

Josie hops out of the taxi and takes in the cold biting harshness of Russian air. It calms her instantly.

She feels her coach walk up next to her, both of their suitcases in hand. 

“Thanks,” Josie mutters, reaching for her suitcase but her coach slaps her hand away. Josie retracts her arm with a scowl. 

“Nope. No heavy lifting until after the competition,” says her coach. Then she gives Josie a look over, adjusts Josie’s backpack strap so that the American flag on Josie’s coat is visible and nods once in satisfaction. “Come on.”

Josie rolls her eyes at the dramatics of her coach but the motion is hidden behind her sunglasses and Josie follows the woman into the hotel where all of the athletes competing at this competition are staying. 

Cameras flash as the press jumps on them as soon as they enter, and Josie is grateful for the sunglasses, a trick she learned by watching Korean pop idols. Ignoring the press and their questions shouted at her in hurried Russian and broken English, Josie scans the hotel reception, dutifully following her coach to the check in desk. 

She spots some girls sporting the Chinese team jacket in one corner but she doesn’t recognize any of them. She also sees an Italian skater who is a familiar at these competitions though Josie could not recall the girl’s name if her life depended on her. The Italian girl shoots a quick grin at her and Josie reciprocates kindly in a similar fashion. 

All the while, lights are flashing non stop around them. 

Josie somehow highly doubts any of these pictures will be good enough to be released, let alone published on the cover of a web article. She’s just checking into a hotel for crying out loud. But the pictures don’t stop. 

The hotel security guards keep the press at a safe distance away though, so Josie drowns them out. Instead, she watches as a little girl probably no older than eleven years old walks towards her, a notepad clutched nervously in her small hands, and eyes shining with excitement and nervousness. There is a man, probably the girl’s father, who pushes the little girl forward gently but insistently. 

Josie pushes the exhaustion from the long nine hour flight away and smiles at the little girl, even adds in an encouraging nod. 

That’s all the little girl needs, as she’s soon sprinting out of her father’s support and right up to Josie, who squats down until she’s face level with the level girl. 

The girl opens her mouth and a rush of Russian sentences come out in high pitched, nervous tones. Josie understands none of it, but she gets the gist. 

Nodding, she gently takes the notepad and pen. The girl squeals and rocks on her heels in delight, watching intently as Josie signs her signature with a flourish. 

“Here you go,” Josie says in English, not bothering to even attempt Russian because she knows she’ll botch it terribly and hands them back. The girl squeals once more and hesitates for a second, lingering. Josie stays squatting, having anticipated the girl’s next actions after years of meeting with fans like her, and raises her arms up. 

The girl’s eyes light up once more and she surges forward. Josie’s ready though, so she doesn’t wobble, even as she’s tackled by eighty pounds of energy. 

She hears the man say something in Russian. Josie has no idea what because the sound of the girl’s laughter drowns everything else out and soon the girl is quickly removing herself from Josie. There’s another rush of Russian that bursts from the little girl and her father is also repeating a word and staring at Josie with gratitude. 

Josie takes it all in stride. “You’re welcome,” she grins at both of them, even takes a second to ruffle the girl’s hair playfully before she’s being called away by her coach who’s holding both of their suitcases and their room card by the elevators. 

As she leaves, Josie makes sure to turn around, finds the little girl’s eyes again, and gives her a quick “Fighting!” The girl waves back enthusiastically, copying her movement. Then the elevators close and Josie is alone with her coach. 

“Another cute little fan to add to your collection?” her coach quips. 

“Please. You make it sound so creepy,” Josie grimaces. Her coach only laughs. 

“I’m just glad it doesn’t get to your head. Athletes become impossible to work with when the fame finally gets to them. Trust me, I know.”

Josie doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t mention the fact that she’s been in Penelope’s shadow, the fact that she’s always mentioned as Penelope’s teammate and not her own person, but as a footnote in Penelope’s path to glory, has already beaten down her ego to nothing. 

She is good, yes. But she is never _good enough._

_‘Not this time though. This time, I’ll show them.’_

And really, if Penelope — arguably the greatest skater alive right now —  believes in her as a skater, then what do the opinions of those - those lesser people - even matter?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes we are pretending the 2018 Winter Olympics were in America and not Korea


	3. Chapter 3

_NBC Sports Live in Moscow_

_November 9th, 2016_

_9:22am_

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you’re a true figure skating fan, then you know it’s that time of the year again.”

“Yes, yes. This weekend is the weekend of the Rostelecom Cup in Moscow, Russia —  the bloodiest competition in the Grand Prix Series.”

“Mostly because of how dominant Russian figure skaters are.”

“For those of you who are unfamiliar with how the Grand Prix works, there are six competitions in the series worldwide. The Rostelecom Cup is one of the six. Skaters are assigned to compete in two of the six competitions, and only the top six overall scorers can compete in the finals.”

“That’s absolutely right, Bob. The ladies start off the competition in two days with the free skate. Bob, can you give us a rundown of who we should expect to see and who we should watch out for?”

“Well of course. The top lady contender for the gold medal today is none other than Josette Saltzman from USA. Ms. Saltzman previously won gold at Skate America a couple of weeks ago, putting her at a comfortable position to qualify for a top spot in the finals.”

“Yes, setting a new best personal score too! If she keeps up this momentum, she will have a good chance of winning the Grand Prix all together.”

“As long as nothing happens again like last year.”

“Right. Last year, Ms. Saltzman was in a strong position for a podium finish when she fell twice on her free program, bringing her down to sixth place.”

“Saltzman will have a hard time winning this Cup though. Nearly the entire Russian team vying for a spot today.”

“I’m sure they’re hoping for a home turf advantage.”

“No doubt. Saltzman’s number one competitor is Alyona Ivanov. Last season, Alyona came in second at the Grand Prix Finals after Josette’s little mishap dropped her out of her silver standings. Alyona also managed to win silver at Worlds with a personal best total score of 232.18.”

“I believe that score lands her as the sixth highest scorer overall for the ladies.”

“Josette has scored higher than that before though, with a personal best of 234.29 from her last competition.”

“This is going to be a tough win for any of these girls.”

“The competition seems to be more intense this year.”

“I reckon this has to do with American skater and former Grand Prix Champion Penelope Park’s decision not to compete this year.”

“How so? Shouldn’t it be the opposite? How can having one less competitor make things more intense?”

“Well, Penelope Park wasn’t just any competitor, was she? Every time she competed, a gold finish was almost always guaranteed for her. All she had to do was to make sure she finished without any crucial mistakes. That meant that the main competition was always between silver and bronze, but of course people paid less attention to that. Now that Park is out of the picture, the skaters that could only win silver or bronze before are finally getting attention.”

“I see. When you put it like that, it makes sense. Basically the competition has always been intense, but we just never noticed it as much because it was always for second and third place. But now it’s being brought to light because the gold medal is added into the mix.”

“Exactly.”

“This is a good chance. With Penelope Park out of the picture, I’m sure these skaters are all desperate to snatch that first place.”

“Who do you think has the highest chance of winning it this year?”

“My money is still on Park’s teammate, Josette Saltzman. Her performance in Skate America showed that she has what it takes to continue the legacy Park started for the US. I don’t think I’ve seen a more flawless program from her. As long as she doesn’t choke like last year of course.”

“The pressure is definitely on for her.” 

A knock on the door is all Josie gets before the door to her hotel room is opening and her coach pops her head in. She takes one long look at the television program Josie is watching and turns to shoot a stern disapproving frown at the young athlete.

“Don’t tell me you’re watching this again. What did I tell you about doing this to yourself?”

Josie puts on her best innocent face. “This is the only channel they had in English.”

Her coach only rolls her eyes. “Yeah right. Anyways, get up. What are you doing still moping around in bed? It’s our turn to use the ice in an hour. I want you down at the rink, stretched and ready to go before then.”

“Yes ‘mam,” Josie groans, sinking deeper into the hard hotel mattress. 

“And stop watching that crap!” her coach yells over her shoulder as she leaves to get ready as well. 

Josie lets herself sit there for a second after the doors slam shut, eyes glued to the American sports channel. 

“I’m not going to choke this year,” she says to an empty room. And as expected, there’s no response. But she repeats it anyways. “I’m not going to choke.”

Feeling a little silly afterwards for talking to herself, Josie forces herself out of bed to get ready. 

By the time Josie is stepping into the ice rink, team Russia is just finishing their team practice. They walk past her silently. Most keep their head down with earphones shoved in, drowning out the rest of the world. 

Pleasantries can come after the competition. Now is the time to focus. 

A few of them do meet Josie’s eye and nod at her in greeting. Among them is none other than Alyona Ivanov, who gives Josie the smallest of smirks. It’s almost provoking —  as if Alyona is saying _‘Good luck beating me’ — _and all Josie can do is nod back.

Normally, Penelope is by her side, silent but reassuring, and everyone acknowledges her first before shifting their glance over to Josie as if just remembering that she is there too. Some don’t even acknowledge Josie, too busy either being enraptured by Penelope or trying to challenge her to glance at Josie. 

It feels weird, that this time, there’s no one else except her. And not for the first time since Penelope declared her inactive status, Josie feels _too_ seen. 

  
  
  


* * *

_Rostelecom Cup, Moscow_

_November 11th, 2016_

_7:01pm_

The day of the short program, warm up goes by without a hitch and Josie hits all of her jumps with ease, much to the envy of her competitors who watch her with side glances and lidded eyes, all waiting for her to slip up, to crack under pressure like last year. 

The Russian skaters grow increasingly tense as predictions from the reporters all lean towards a win in Josie’s favor, but Josie doesn’t worry too much about it. She’s here to skate her best and she’s not letting anyone beat her no matter what.

She might’ve spent years being second best to Penelope Park, but that doesn’t mean she can’t hold her own in a competition like this. If her competitors think that she would be an easy target just because her other half isn’t here, then she’ll prove them wrong. She’s here to win this whole thing. 

Her coach comes by to give her a few pointers but ultimately ends with a pat on the back, telling her to keep up the good work and that she’s got this in the bag. Josie smiles, tight-lipped, before glancing down at her phone. 

Her phone lights up to show her screensaver. She scrolls through her notifications. There’s a ton of good luck texts from her friends and family back home and her heart warms with all the support she has. She’s lucky she has all them. She truly is. 

But it’s not enough. 

There are no new messages from the person she most wants to hear from. 

The last message she’d sent to Penelope is from two hours ago which reads: “I’m going on soon! Wish me luck!”

There is no reply. 

Josie stares at the delivered stamp and wills for the three blinking dots to appear. 

They don’t. 

Josie can’t help but feel a little disheartened. She clutches her phone anxiously in her hand all the way up to the sidelines, desperately hoping for a reply, anything at all really, even as her coach is murmuring things she needs to be aware of —  things she really should have been listening to. Instead, she is preoccupied with a text. 

A text that never comes. 

And then Josie realizes she is being absolutely silly. Her mental game is not so weak that it can be broken by a single unreplied text. So she blocks everything out, all her worries, and even her hopes. There is nothing in her mind except her routine and what she needs to do. 

And all too quickly, her name and country is being announced and Josie is pushed onto the ice into a crowd of watchful eyes. 

Josie skates into the middle of the rink and takes a second to just clear her mind. For a moment, she feels...nothing and the crowd quiets with her. Then, she lets herself feel heavy hearted, let’s the disappointment from before rush in. She lets it fuel the character she must turn into — a girl hurt from unrequited love. 

It’s quite apt, if you ask Josie. She carries the character well, skates through the moves like she knows how a broken heart feels like except that’s impossible right? She’s never dated before…

The scores come out and Josie breathes a sigh of relief as her coach pulls her into a big hug —  she doesn’t let herself feel too relieved yet though because her job is only half way done. 

The score is not as high as the one she got from Skate America, but it’s high enough and gives Josie a solid lead going into the free skate over Alyona, who must’ve cracked under all the pressure she’s being given by her nation because she messes up her leading jump. 

Josie feels sorry for her, if only because she understands the pressure the other girl is dealing with. But she’s also not sorry enough to not be grateful for the temporary lead. 

She smiles through all the congratulations thrown her way a little easier and even the press seems to ease up on her after her performance. 

She doesn’t glance at her phone. 

* * *

  
  
  
  


_Rostelecom Cup, Moscow_

_November 13th, 2016_

_11:41am_

Josie winces as she falls yet again against the harsh ice. Her hips are surely bruised by now, but she’s less worried about that than the familiar dull pain that’s back in her right ankle. She moves it slightly and is relieved to feel that it’s gone.

Hopefully it’ll stay that way. 

“Brush it off! You’re fine!” she hears her coach yell from somewhere on the other side of the boards. She hears a skater skate past her and she knows that all eyes are on her. 

She pushes herself up carefully and dusts off the ice from her legs before resuming a lazy stride. She watches as other skaters around her pull off their jumps and spins. 

She ignores them and skates to her coach. 

“You okay? Do you feel off?” her coach asks immediately, handing over a bottle of water. 

Josie isn’t thirsty but she takes the water anyways and takes a sip. She shakes her head. “I’m fine. Nothing I can’t shake off.”

“Okay, good. That’s good. If you feel up for it, you can try that triple axel again. But if not, that’s okay too. I don’t want you to push it,” her coach says, eyeing her worriedly. “How’s your ankle by the way?”

Josie jumps in place in an attempt to loosen her muscles. God, why did everything feel so tight today? She’ll need to roll herself again before she goes on. 

“It’s fine,” she deflects. She decides not to tell her coach about the little reminiscent pain just now. She’s fine. It happens all the time. It’s probably just phantom pain. A mental thing. 

“Remember!” her coach yells to her as she skates back to join the others. “You’re a sexy beast! Seduce us!”

Josie smiles wryly at her, glad that no one else around them really spoke English. 

She tries to focus again, to recenter herself, and pretends she doesn’t see the way Alyona lands her triple toe, triple lutz combination in the corner of her eyes. 

* * *

  
  
  
  


She loses to Alyona in the free. 

But only by mere tenths of a point, putting her overall at first, with a combined total score that was only three points ahead of Alyona’s. It’s not as high as Josie would’ve liked — it certainly isn’t as high of a lead Penelope would have had if she were competing — but it serves its purpose. And with two firsts under her name, Josie is guaranteed a spot in the Grand Prix Finals. 

Now all she has to do is win it. 

She finds herself back onto the ice after it all ends, after the award ceremony, and the exhibition gala and the post-competition banquet. 

She’s alone on the ice, but isn’t that what it’s always like? Just an empty ice and herself. 

As she skates around the rink absentmindedly, she can’t help but think that figure skating is a lonely sport. 

(Excuse her sentimentality, she’s a little drunk from the champagne at the banquet.) 

She thinks of Penelope, who is all the way on the other side of the world, and she goes through her short program again —  channels her loneliness into her routine. It comes out differently than it did two days ago, heavier somehow, more emotionally draining, and as she finishes, she finds herself tearing up. 

But she doesn’t cry. 

She’ll do better at the finals. There will be no room for debating who should have won. She will dominate. 

_‘One more competition. Just one more.’_

  
  
  
  


* * *

_Toronto, Canada_

_November 13th, 2016_

_9:42pm_

The world spins dangerously before Penelope lands and everything comes to an abrupt stop. She feels the harness around her body tug, telling her to go again, but she puts a hand up, telling Brian to stop. He does and Penelope all but collapses. She’s bent over, hands on her knees for support, chest heaving as she fights her spinning head and stomach. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she moans. 

“Finally at your limit?” Brian asks. “Good. I was beginning to wonder if you had one.” He rubs his own arms, sore from pulling Penelope’s weight so many times. He’s never had such an insistent student before and his muscles are paying for it. 

Penelope undoes the straps keeping her secured and makes her way to the ice rink. She sits on the bench and begins putting her skates back on. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” Brian asks, concern coloring his voice. “I thought you said we were finished.”

“We are,” Penelope states. “As soon as I attempt it once on ice.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Brian asks, walking up to stand next to her. He towers over her as she’s still bent down, tying her shoe laces. “Your legs are completely wrecked from all that jumping practice we did just now.”

“I’ll be fine,” says Penelope as she straightens up. “Besides I finally got a feel for it. I have to try it now before I lose it, no?”

Brian frowns slightly. Sometimes he can’t tell if Penelope is joking or not. 

“Okay, but be careful. If anything goes wrong, and I mean anything, I’m taking you off the ice. The last thing I need is for you to tear your ACL or crack your ankle landing wrong.”

Penelope rolls her eyes and pushes herself onto the ice. Brian worries too much. She knows how to read her body and it’ll hold. 

She takes a few seconds to just glide around the arena, picking up speed while testing out her leg strength. 

They do feel tired, that’s for sure. She feels them protest even with the slightest push. But she’s been doing this for years now and she knows it’ll be okay. Her body can still handle much more. 

So she closes her eyes, lets her instincts guide her on the ice for a second even at such dangerous speeds as she imagines the jump in her mind —  goes through all the motions, the take off, the spin, the landing, until she can feel them in her body. 

Suddenly her eyes are open and everything around her seems to slow down. 

She pushes off the ice with everything she has and almost surprises herself with the amount of air she’s able to gain, but she’s focused. She tightens her core and twists herself into the most aerodynamic pose she can muster. She’s spinning, and spinning and spinning. 

It all happens so fast. 

She feels her bun loosen midair. Her hair flies out in all directions, but she pays it no attention. 

She anticipates the landing a split millisecond before it happens, all by trained instinct only, and braces herself for the impact on her outer edge. 

It connects with a beautiful sharp ring and her body naturally glides out of the jump. Without even thinking about it, she digs her left toe pick _hard_ into the ice. 

She’s in the air again. 

She spins another three times before landing back onto the ice. Her right leg remains sturdy the entire time. Another perfectly executed jump. 

She’s smiling widely, and she can sort of make out Brian’s enthusiastic clapping from across the rink but she can’t really hear him. Not over the loud thumping of her own heart in her ears. 

She’s done it. She’s actually done it. 

Suddenly, everything comes rushing back to her at regular speed and all Penelope can do is look up slowly. 

Brian Orser is absolutely beaming at her, his arms punching the air wildly. “Beautiful! That was absolutely beautiful! The most textbook perfect quadruple lutz! And followed by a flawless triple toe too! The world is never going to know what hit them! The first quadruple combo by a lady in competition! Nathan Chen, watch out boy, because Penelope Park is here to take your crown as Quad King.”

And all Penelope can do is laugh. 

A few more months and this jump will be competition ready for the entire world to see. 

_‘JoJo, I hope you are ready because I’m coming back with everything I’ve got. I will show you my best, so you better show me yours.’_

  
  
  
  


* * *

She’s fresh out of the shower and lying in bed with her foam roller digging into the sore spot on her hip, when she scrolls through her phone absentmindedly and sees it. 

Her face lights up with an automatic grin. 

_‘USA’s Josette Saltzman Wins Gold at Rostelecom Cup. Saltzman Now On Track to Win the Whole GP Series.’_

_‘No Longer in Park’s Shadow, USA’s Josette Saltzman Snatches Gold at Russia With Flawless Performance.’_

_‘Has Russia’s Dominance in Figure Skating Finally Come to an End? US Skaters Dominate World Standings.’_

_‘Saltzman Wins America and Rostelecom, Declares Intent to Win the Finals.’_

_‘Josette Saltzman Names Teammate Penelope Park as Her Number One Competitor to Beat.’_

Penelope exits her browser, having seen enough. Instead, she opens her messages, scrolls down and clicks on Josie’s name. 

The last message is from two days ago, the one Josie sent her before her short program. 

Penelope feels bad about not responding. She’d seen the message almost immediately but held herself back from replying on purpose. 

_‘She can’t rely on me anymore. JoJo, it’s time to find strength within yourself now.’_

Still, it couldn’t hurt now. The competition is over and Josie has already won. She deserves some congratulations. 

So Penelope exits out of the message app and taps open Youtube. She searches for Josie’s performance and is unsurprised to see that it’s already posted. She watches both the short and the free program, twice, donning a small proud smile the entire time. 

_‘She’s doing so well. But...she still has so far to go. One year, JoJo, just one more year. That’s all we have.’_

She then watches Alyona Ivanov’s short and free programs. She’s familiar with how the girl skates having competed against her many times prior, and thus isn’t surprised by what she sees. 

She also knows then that the reason Josie lost to Alyona is not because Alyona skated exceptionally well, but because Josie didn’t perform her best. So she watches Josie’s free program again and this time, she’s careful in her analysis. 

After picking apart Josie’s program almost obsessively, Penelope knows what she needs to do —  has known what the problem was since her first watch through. Now all she needs to do is give Josie a little push in the right direction. 

But how...?

She clicks open the messaging app again and types off a quick reply before turning off her phone and going to bed. 

An hour later, halfway across the world, Josie wakes up and sees the message. It brings a small smile to her face and she feels a burst of motivation to try even harder today during practice. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see the slight wobble on your 3T+3L combo JoJo :P Congrats on your gold!”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_One month later…_

_Grand Prix Finals - Lyon, France_

_December 11, 2016_

_11:34am_

France is beautiful as always, and even though it’s Josie’s first time in this particular city, she can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity as she walks through the street markets. 

It’s been a month since her win in Russia and two weeks since her five competitors have been named. Josie is the only American to qualify. 

It increases the pressure. 

She’s known that she is the one that is expected to carry on Penelope’s legacy but she has been hoping for a failsafe. She hoped that Hope would qualify too, if only so the pressure isn’t entirely on her. 

But now she stands alone, the single American skater in the Grand Prix finals. 

This is a first for her. And Josie is not sure if she’s carrying the pressure well, if she’s not crumbling under the weight. 

She doesn’t understand how Penelope did it, still does it, after all these years. 

The only thing she can do is practice, practice, practice. 

Yet here she is, standing in the busy streets of Lyon instead of at the ice rink —  her coach having kicked her out and giving her the day off to rest. 

She arrived at Lyon yesterday, giving her an entire week before she needs to compete in the Grand Prix Finals, so she supposes a single day can’t hurt. She might as well enjoy the city. She decides to spend it wandering aimlessly around the city, hoping to clear her mind before she needs to tackle the pressures of competition. 

If her coach notices Josie taking her bag with her skates in it to ‘go shopping’, she doesn’t comment on it. 

Josie’s currently admiring a bracelet made of blue stones when she hears that voice. 

“Hm, I don’t know if those match your eyes. Try the one next to it.”

And for a second, Josie’s scared she’s gone crazy. 

_‘I can’t believe I’m hearing her voice now. How pathetic am I? To miss her this much?’_

Josie would have happily continued her stroll down whatever street this is, only mildly concerned for her mental health, except the voice sounds again.

“You’re really going to ignore me, JoJo?”

Josie whirls around in surprise, the sudden movement catching her ankle in an awkward position and a sharp pain shoots up her leg, but Josie barely even flinches at it, too surprised to feel anything else at the moment. 

“Penelope!” she gasps. Blinking rapidly, Josie just manages to hold back from rubbing her eyes in disbelief. The raven haired girl stands before her, the real deal. 

So not a figment of her imagination then. And Josie probably isn’t crazy yet. Probably. 

“Well, hello to you too,” Penelope grins in greeting and Josie hates how composed Penelope is, as if this is completely normal —  bumping into each other while window shopping in the streets of France, as if the last time they saw each other isn’t a whole month and a half ago, as if it’s not only one of them that is supposed to be here, and the other is supposed to thousands of miles away on a different country, unreachable. 

To make things worse, Penelope is donning a chic look with a black blazer over a pristine white blouse and form fitting black jeans, finished with a beret and a pair of cat-eyed sunglasses, blending in perfectly with the fashionably styled French locals. 

Meanwhile, Josie is in a pair of sweatpants that she’s worn two days in a row now, an oversized hoodie that covers the length of her body down to her knees and a pair of old, no longer white, sneakers, so she feels like a proper slob standing next to Penelope. 

“What are you _doing_ here?” Josie couldn’t have sounded more incredulous if she tried. 

Penelope shrugs and Josie wants to smack her for being so nonchalant. How did Penelope even _find_ her? What is she doing here? Is she here to watch Josie skate in the finals?

Josie’s heart soars with hope only for her to crush it with her own volition. If Penelope were truly here to watch her compete, why is she a week early?

“I heard they have pretty good food here,” Penelope jokes in lieu of an explanation, and under normal circumstances, Josie would’ve found it annoyingly charming, maybe even have swooned a little. Except right now, her nerves are shot, she’s terribly jet-lagged, and she’s incredibly tense from trying to bear the pressure of having an entire nation’s expectations on her shoulders, so no, she does not find Penelope’s antics cute. 

She can’t deny she’s not happy to see her though. 

“You know what I meant,” Josie states dryly, barely keeping her annoyance in check —  she’s tired of this push and pull, tired of the girl randomly appearing before her only to leave again right after, never staying too long. Doesn’t Penelope understand that it _does things_ to Josie’s heart? 

“What are you doing _here_ ,” she emphasizes, instead. “In _Lyon_. Last time I checked, this isn’t Canada.”

Penelope doesn’t miss a beat. “I came here to see you.”

Josie blinks. Now that was _completely_ unfair. How dare-

Josie takes a deep breath. Focus. “Why?” She asks, because she needs to know. 

Penelope raises an eyebrow, as if the answer was obvious, but Josie truly has no idea why she is here.

“I watched your videos from Rostelecom,” Penelope offers instead. 

Josie narrows her eyes. “Okay?” She waits. “And?”

“And it was good.”

Josie relaxs. Penelope thinks it was good. Tension that Josie didn’t even know she had, suddenly disappears, and Josie finds herself feeling much more relaxed than she had in the past few days. 

It’s amazing what only a few words from Penelope can do to her. (Amazing and even more terrifying.) 

“You came all the way from Canada to tell me I did well on my program? A simple text would have sufficed,” Josie jokes. No, she’s known Penelope long enough to know that she’s here for other reasons. So she waits. 

“Well, that and as I said, the food,” Penelope quips, before rolling her eyes, her face settling into a more serious countenance. Josie is relieved to see she’s done playing this little game of theirs, whatever it is. “Anyways, you’re free now, right?” Penelope asks. 

“What if I told you I’m not actually free?” Josie shoots back. She most definitely is free, but she isn’t going to give Penelope the gratification of knowing that. Serves the girl right for just appearing randomly in Josie’s life whenever she feels like it. 

“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to cancel, because we have a date,” Penelope states, taking Josie’s hand and pulling her along. She leaves no room for rejection, but Josie doesn’t even try to fight it. She’s too busy trying to wrestle her heart back under control after it went completely haywire at the word ‘date’. 

She thinks her heart is faulty. It must be if it’s doing these silly things just by hearing Penelope say the word ‘date.’ She wants a refund. 

“A date?” Josie murmurs to herself, unconsciously curling her lips into a small smile at the thought. 

She imagines them going shopping, jumping from store to store, and Penelope would offer to hold all of Josie’s bags, because she is gentlemanly like that and Josie needs to ‘save her energy for the competition.’ Then, when they would tire of shopping, they would stop by a quaint cafe and order enough food to feed a family of four, because let’s face it, being an athlete takes a lot of carbs. They would share their dishes, maybe even feed each other. And of course to top it all off, Penelope would order a dessert despite Josie’s protests that she is on a strict competition diet and share it with Josie. 

Josie lets out a little wistful sigh as her mind continues to daydream about their first date. Tightening her grip on Penelope, she knows that no matter what they do, and even if the other girl doesn’t even mean ‘date’ like that, she is just happy that Penelope is here, by her side again. 

She’s missed her. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They end up standing in front of the ice rink. 

Josie is wholly unimpressed. Penelope gets a zero out of ten for their first date location. 

“We’re at the ice rink,” she says, feeling rather dumb.

“Well spotted,” Penelope quips, pulling Josie towards the ice. “I hope you have your skates in that bag.” 

Penelope says that, but Josie knows that Penelope knows that she does indeed have her skates with her. 

So she groans and pulls them out. It’s not like she can hide them. Penelope nods approvingly at her so she quickly laces her skates on and wobbles to stand next to Penelope. 

“What are we doing?” Josie asks again because she still has no clue. Penelope still hasn’t explained anything to her yet, but Josie’s guessing it probably has something to do with figure skating and the upcoming finals. 

Call it a hunch. 

“You don’t even have your skates,” Josie points out. 

“I don’t need them,” Penelope says simply before walking onto the ice in _sneakers_ and Josie’s eyes almost bulge at the audacity. 

“Sacrilegious,” she whispers under her breath. Who _knows_ what kind of dirt is on Lyon’s streets and now Penelope is bringing them _onto_ the ice? Josie almost can't believe her eyes. What kind of heathen has Penelope turned into after going to Canada? Still, Josie follows her onto the ice. “Care to tell me what we’re doing now?”

“What is the intention behind your free program?” Penelope questions instead, spinning around on one leg to face Josie and making the move look graceful despite being on ice in, once again, _sneakers._

(And really, that is so unfair. Josie finds a lot of things about Penelope unfair. Like for example, her whole existence.)

“Wha-” Josie flubbers, not having expected the question. “You want the whole story, or-”

Penelope waves her hand aimlessly. “What do you think about when you perform it?”

“Uh-” Once again Josie finds herself tongue-tied. “Well, the character I’m playing is a seductress. The concept is sexual love. I’m trying to seduce my lover.”

“And who are you thinking of when you skate this? Who are you trying to seduce?” Penelope presses. 

“The audience? The judges? Everyone?” Josie responds, but even as she is speaking, she can feel that the answer is lacking. She knows deep inside exactly _who_ she would like to seduce, but she is _not_ telling Penelope _that._

_That's_ a mortifying enough thought on its own, one that Josie only entertains in her most privatest of moments and even then, very guiltily.

“Hmmm,” Penelope fixates her gaze on Josie, deep in thought and Josie tries her best not to fidget under such an intense stare. “And is it working? Do you feel...in character?”

“Yes,” Josie states, but it comes out weaker than she’d intended and she knows that Penelope can read her like a book. She wishes the same could be said for the other way around. 

“You don’t sound sure,” Penelope points out. Her whole demeanor changes then, and Josie recognizes this side of Penelope. It’s the look of complete concentration as Penelope analyzes every move in her program; it’s the look of unbreakable focus as Penelope maps out her routine on the ice, ignoring the way the other competitors try to intimidate her with their jumps at warm ups; it’s the look Penelope gets on her face right before she skates onto the rink and crushes every other person in the competition with a flawless performance. It’s what makes Penelope a terrifying yet thrilling competitor.

So Josie follows suit. She straightens her back and lifts her chin just the slightest, feels her previously clumsy, almost floundering, demeanor leave her body, replaced by a controlled practice grace on the ice that she’s taken years to develop. It’s almost as if there’s a whole different person in charge of her motor skills. 

“I watched your performance,” Penelope says, as she walks closer towards Josie. Josie stays rooted in her spot on the ice. “You start off well. Good expressive eyes.” Brown eyes peer into hers and Josie’s mind goes blank. 

“But halfway through,” - Penelope is only a meter away now - “You stop thinking about trying to seduce your target. Instead, you’re busy worrying about landing the next jump, the next step sequence, or the next spin and the magic of the program is,” - Penelope snaps and the crisp sound of her fingers echoes through the mostly empty rink - “lost.”

Josie gulps. She swears she’s been listening, but they’re too close. She’s barely breathing, in case all she’d smell is Penelope’s perfume. 

Penelope steps even closer and Josie actually _quivers_. They’re practically nose to nose now. Penelope looks up at her through her lashes, uses the two inches Josie has on her to her advantage. 

“Who are you trying to seduce?” Penelope asks again through lidded eyes. 

Josie gulps. Her eyes are glued to Penelope’s. She can’t seem to look away, even as Penelope leans impossibly closer. She licks her lips in anticipation. 

“Seduce me.” 

It’s a quick whisper, carefully placed right next to Josie’s right ear. The sensation of hot air hitting her neck leaves Josie weak in the knees. She inhales sharply and her nose fills with Penelope’s perfume just as Penelope steps away suddenly. 

A rush of cold air accompanies her exit and Josie is left frozen in her spot. She’s not really sure of what she should be doing, not really sure of what just happened, but the next thing she knows, the familiar opening beats of her free program music is playing through the rink and her body moves on its own. 

She looks up and immediately her gaze catches Penelope. 

And _Shivers._

Up and down her entire spine and into her toes. Josie’s not sure if she’d ever been looked at like that her entire life. 

The look Penelope is giving her is absolutely _sinful._

And all Josie knows is that she can’t just look. She needs to _touch._

So she glides forward, her body on auto-pilot. 

“There we go,” she hears Penelope say. “Just like that.”

Penelope glides away, somehow, on the soles of her sneakers and Josie is whirling, dancing, letting her body move to the beat as she approaches Penelope, feeling like a predator desperately hungry for its prey. 

Penelope continues to goad her closer. 

But every time Josie tries to get close, Penelope would evade, dipping just out of reach. 

“Don’t chase me,” she hears Penelope say over the sway of the music. “Make me come to you.”

So Josie does. She glides around the ice, the winds whipping at her hair, leaps into the air, fuels her spins with desire, keeps her eyes lidded and playful, and teases with her hips and her lips. 

And Penelope is there, never touching but close, so close that Josie can _almost_ feel her and that’s somehow worse. 

They dance around each other, with Josie pulling and Penelope following. 

At one point, Penelope stumbles, ill-equipped as she is to move around on the ice with only her sneakers, and falls right into Josie’s embrace. Josie offers her a smirk which Penelope returns, only to playfully push Josie away, and the chase resumes. 

Josie’s never felt so excited, so _sensual._

But the music, it’s coming to a climax, and Josie finds herself frustrated —  frustrated that it’s ending already, frustrated that she still hasn’t got the girl —  so in a last ditch effort, she soars into the air, gives it everything she’s got, lands the triple axel and immediately goes into a spin. 

She digs her toe pick into the ice and snaps her neck around, her eyes automatically finding Penelope’s from across the rink and it’s as if no one else exists - the _want_ pouring out of her eyes, uninhibited. 

Josie is breathing hard as her senses slowly come back to her. Her mind is still catching up with reality. And all she hears is slow clapping. 

Looking up, she sees Penelope watching her with a proud look. 

“What-” Josie gasps. She’s not quite sure exactly what she’s out of breath from. “What just happened?”

Penelope smirks at Josie and makes her way back into Josie’s personal space. Josie doesn’t mind it one bit.

“You,” Penelope pauses, letting her eyes lazily trace over Josie’s facial features. “Just seduced me.” And before Josie can even blink, Penelope leans in and places a peck right on the corner of Josie’s mouth, letting her lips linger. 

“I owed you one,” is all Penelope says before turning and walking off the ice. 

Josie is left nearly hyperventilating as she stares at the retreating back. Despite being surrounded by ice, she feels hot. 

“Good luck on Saturday!” Penelope shouts over her shoulder, shooting Josie a wink, and saunters out the rink doors. Josie watches as the doors flap behind Penelope’s exit. She has a feeling she won’t be seeing Penelope again until much later, whenever it is the next time the girl decides to randomly pop in for a visit. 

* * *

  
  


_Grand Prix Finals -- Lyon, France_

_December 18, 2016_

_4:27pm_

Josie wins the Grand Prix Finals with a new kind of intensity no one was really prepared for and breaks Penelope’s long standing world record in the free program. Everyone watching goes wild. 

“Did you SEE that? What a performance!”

“I agree, Bob! Is it me or is it HOT in here? Phew. The ice must be melting out there.”

“She looked like she was going to eat us alive! In a good way of course.”

“In the best way!”

“I’ve never seen Saltzman perform like that before. That was completely different.”

“That was art, Bob. That was art! Josette has managed to transcend to the next level of ice skating!”

“Her jumps today too were flawless! Even the triple axel which usually gives her a little grief, was perfect! What do you think happened to trigger this change?”

“No idea. But I do hope it’s here to stay.”

“Oh! Her score is out! What is it… let’s see...” 

“Oh my. Ladies and gentleman! We have a new ladies figure skating free program world record! 154.72.”

“I wonder how her teammate Penelope Park is feeling right about now.”

“Probably regretting not competing in the Grand Prix.”

“And with that score, Josie has secured the gold medal for USA, giving the country its sixth consecutive win.”

“We thought it couldn’t be done. We had our doubts. But Josette Saltzman has pulled through spectacularly. I look forward to what she’ll bring to Worlds in March.”

“Me too. Me too.”

“And there you have it, our 2017 Grand Prix Series Champion, Josette Saltzman from USA!”

* * *

  
  
  
  


_Vancouver, Canada_

_December 19, 2016_

_7:52am_

Brian is scrolling through something on his phone when Penelope walks in, mid-yawn. He looks up at her entrance and beams, holding up his phone for her to see. 

“Looks like your little intervention worked.”

Penelope squints at the screen. It takes her a second to read it, but then she’s breaking out into a wide grin. 

“So she beat my world record, huh?” she grins proudly, without a hint of annoyance that her record was beaten. How can she be annoyed? When Josie is finally showing her true fangs? 

She doesn’t even have time to be excited yet, let alone annoyed. 

She finally has a rival again. 

“Are you worried?” Brian teases. “She’s scored higher than you ever did by three points.”

“No,” Penelope shrugs and motions through her morning stretches. “I still hold the world record for the short and the combined score. And I’m sure I’ll snatch back my world record in the free program too.”

Brian shakes his head, still amazed at the confidence —  if it could still be called that —  of the American skater. “Well your friend has won the Grand Prix Finals and America has defended their sixth consecutive win. Does this mean we’re done with your little excursions?”

“Hopefully,” Penelope answers and Brian accepts it. He knows he won’t get much else from her. 

“Right well, warm up. We’re doing cardio today. We need to up your stamina if you want to be able to do the program you designed.”

Penelope gets right to work, excitement thrumming inside her veins. 

Later that night, as she lies in bed, Penelope finds herself unable to stop smiling as she watches the videos of Josie's winning short and free skates. 

_'I can't believe my plan worked so well. In order for Josie to grow as a skater, I needed her to build her own self-confidence, for her to step out my shadow and shine. For her short program, she needed to understand pain, to be able to channel the pain of a young broken-hearted girl._

_So I left._

_I left America and came to Canada. I distanced myself away and it worked like a charm. Josie's short program instantly developed a maturity and a heaviness that wasn't there before._

_Then came her free skate._

_Oh poor JoJo. I don't think I've ever seen her so red before. I'm sorry if I teased you a little too much. I couldn't help it. I'm glad you took all my teachings to heart though. It paid off quite well. Next time I see you, I'll have to give you a little more as a reward._

_Four more months..._

_Four more months apart, JoJo, and then I will see you at Worlds, where we'll meet as equals on the ice, and you'll chase after me for the first time with the intent to beat me. I can't wait.'_

  
  


* * *

  
  


_Seductress on Ice! USA’s Josette Saltzman Wins Grand Prix Series._

_Saltzman Takes the GP Win, Giving USA Their Sixth Consecutive Win_

_Saltzman’s World Record Breaking FS Lets Her Take Gold at Lyon_

_Josette Saltzman Breaks Teammate Penelope Park’s Free Skate World Record_

_Saltzman Snatches Gold with World Record Breaking Performance_

_The US to Dominate 2018 Winter Olympics Figure Skating?_

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

_Vancouver, Canada_

_February 5th, 2017_

_10:52 pm_

“I hate to say this,” Brian tells her at the end of practice as Penelope leans heavily against the rink wall desperately trying to catch her breath. 

Lately, the practices have been more tiring than usual, or perhaps her body’s just weaker than normal. She can barely hear him over the sound of her own breath and pounding heart, but the silence that follows his words is deafening.

“But I don’t think you’ll be ready by World’s.”

Penelope is panting so hard —  her lungs desperately heaving for the air her body lacks — that she can’t even properly frown at Brian’s words. 

Deep down, she knows Brian is right and surprisingly, the admission of the fact is not as hard as she’d thought it would be. 

She’s not blind. She herself has considered the necessity of sitting out Worlds this year. The notion hits her in her most exhausted moments before she falls asleep each night after practice, the slow improvement weighing on her mind and body. 

Everyday she pushes her body to the brink of exhaustion. And everyday, she pushes a little more than the last. 

Penelope has been racing against time, and her body has suffered for it. 

Penelope knows she’s been dangerously testing her limits. At the rate she’s going though, she’ll end up killing her body. One wrong move, one moment of lost focus, and there goes her entire career. Bye bye Olympic gold. 

It’s not like she’s still fifteen years old, full of youth and equipped with a body capable of bouncing back from any minor injury. She’s nearly twenty two now. That in skater years, is like granny age.

Penelope’s not just tired. She’s _exhausted_. It’s the type of weariness that sinks into your bones and just stays there, weighing you down. It’s the type of fatigue that clings to you and makes you feel completely drained even after having done absolutely nothing. It’s the type of weakness in your body that forces you to make mistakes and overcompensate for the sudden difficulty of normally simple movements. 

Penelope knows it’s mental as much as it’s physical. And she knows the best thing to do is to simply step away. 

Had she been a lesser skater, Brian’s words would have been disheartening. But she’s Penelope Park and she’s long grown used to the cost of perfection, of what it takes to get there.

This is just another obstacle that every athlete faces. 

And Penelope knows what she needs to do to get out of this funk. 

So she gathers herself up and straightens against the wall. Brian watches her with anxious eyes. 

Penelope, to his surprise, lets out a laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be ready either,” she admits and is almost relieved when the words slip out of her lips easily, feeling as if a certain burden has been lifted from her shoulders. 

_‘There’s no need to push my body so hard now that I know I can take my time. I have a whole year to prepare before the Olympics.’_

Brian, simply put, is completely astonished by the display of maturity from whom he’d thought was just another skater with a big cocky ego. But Penelope has proven him completely wrong, surprising him in yet another account. There isn’t even a hint of contempt or frustration at the admission in her tone. 

If he’d suggested the same thing to any other skater, they most likely would’ve thrown a fit of some sort and tried to compete no matter what. He’d expected some protesting, maybe even some crying. 

(Brian knows, because he speaks from experience. Many of them.)

“You don’t?” he asks involuntarily, barely catching himself. 

Penelope shrugs. “It’s something that’s been on my mind too actually, but yeah, I don’t think I’ll be ready,” she says again and Brian’s jaw drops a little more. 

“One month is barely enough time,” Penelope continues. “At best, I’ll be competing with a half-baked routine and I respect myself and my competitors way too much to do such a thing. At worst, I push my body too far too fast and I break before I even get onto the rink,” she says, giving Brian a dry look. She knows her words are grim, but she’s seen too many good athletes before her fall down the same hole. 

Brian can only stare. For the first time, he fully finds himself understanding what makes Penelope the monster skater that she is. It’s not just the unrivaled insane training discipline - that even his own body is sore from. No, it’s her mental strength and the clarity in which she is able to see the situation. 

Penelope is a good athlete because she is a _smart_ athlete. One that knows when to push like there’s no tomorrow, and when to stop before they destroy their body in the process. 

Almost all professional athletes can do the first one; almost all professional athletes struggle with the second one. 

She knows _how_ to listen to her body. To find the limit - that thin line between doing the most and doing too much. After all, the best athlete is the one that is the most attuned to their body. 

“Besides,” Penelope grins. “What’s a better comeback stage than the Olympics?” she says, as if giving up a chance to compete at Worlds is no biggie to her.

“You know you _can_ always compete at Worlds with an easier routine,” Brian points out, realizing that sitting out this Worlds puts Penelope as inactive for more than a year which is highly unusual right before the Olympics and a bit disadvantageous as the Federation might not even give her a chance to compete despite her previous records. 

As he should’ve expected though, his suggestion is met with a fierce frown in response. He holds his hand up in surrender, laughing at the indignant look on Penelope’s face. “Right, no half-baked routines.”

“Too much self-respect,” Penelope repeats just for emphasis, and takes a deep breath, shoulders dropping. 

Brian watches as the weariness settles in on the girl. But Penelope seems much lighter now than she did when she first started the practice three hours ago. 

“It’s good that you’re giving your body more time to adjust. It’s not easy to suddenly throw in three quad jumps in five months you know? People have tried their whole lifetimes to no avail,” he says, wanting to encourage her. 

  
  


Penelope snorts. “I don’t need a lifetime. I’ll have these quads nailed in three months.”

“And what are you going to do for the remaining of the nine months before the Winter Olympics?” Brian asks with a grin, deciding to humor the girl. 

“What else?” Penelope grins back, her eyes twinkling. “Aim for perfection.”

Brian only chuckles. He knows that if anyone can do it, it’s the girl in front of him. She’s proven that much to him already. “Well, why don’t you take this chance to give yourself a break then? Take it easy for a week or two. Go home. Visit your family. I’m sure they missed you,” Brian tells her. “We’ll pick up on your hellish training when you get back.”

Penelope hums. She leans her head against the wall and considers the proposition. She does need a break and home does sound lovely. She misses her parents and even her little annoying brother. She misses her old coach and all her friends and teammates on the US National Team. 

The image of a certain brunette flashes through her mind and her heart pangs with longing. 

She misses Josie most of all. 

It’s been three months since the last time Penelope saw Josie in Lyon, France. Penelope knows she is the one who left and then told Josie to be strong and wait patiently, but here she is, aching at the mere thought of the other girl. Perhaps Penelope is the weak one out of the two of them. 

“Yeah,” she says softly. “I think I might go home for a while.”

Penelope also supposes she needs to tell Josie about her withdrawal from Worlds. She knows the other girl has been looking forward to competing together again. Penelope just knows Josie’s going to be so disappointed that Penelope is sitting this one out. Again. But she also knows that Josie will understand. She always does. 

At least Penelope will get to tell Josie in person. Hopefully, that would lessen the sting a bit. 

* * *

  
  
_US National Training Center_

_February 7, 2017_

_9:26pm_

Josie knows as soon as her skate leaves the ice that she is not set up correctly for the jump and instead of executing a triple lutz as she’d planned, she crumples gracelessly to the unforgiving hard ice. 

The fall isn’t gentle, even if she braces herself. Her knees sting from the impact and the air gets knocked out of her chest, taking her will to fight with it. Her ankle throbs from the wrong take off and the harsh landing. 

“You okay?” she hears her coach call out at her from across the rink. Josie doesn’t answer her. She stays in her fetal position, face growing numb from where it touches the ice. She shuts her eyes closed and focuses on her other senses. 

The sound of her heavy breathing fills her ears as her heart pounds loudly in her chest. She can taste the distinct metallic flavor of blood in the back of her throat. Her throat is raw - a consequence of breathing in lungfuls of nothing but cold air for hours and pushing her muscles to the point where there’s hardly any oxygen left in her body.

Her body is sore and tired, her mind even more so. Her pinky toe is uncomfortable with how long it’s been jammed into her skates and the blister on her ankle that’s been bothering her all week, though barely a nuisance at times, makes her want to cry in frustration at how annoying it’s been. As if she needs another thing to go wrong. 

The cold underneath her body is almost comforting despite the fact that it bites at her exposed skin. At least it feels nice against her overexerted muscles. 

Her entire body feels numb and she knows it’s not just from the cold. 

After all, her mind is the most numb of all. 

The sound of skates speedily approaching breaks Josie out of her melodramatic thoughts and she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“You okay?” she hears Hope ask in a rush, tone laced with worry. “Are you hurt? We’ve been calling your name.”

Josie huffs. She’s _fine._ So she gathers herself up and props herself up on one knee to stand up and resume practice.

Except she’s _not_ fine and her ankle gives away as soon as she puts weight on it. She swallows the scream though —  with much difficulty — and instead grabs onto Hope for support. Hope shoots her a questioning look —  it’s not like Josie to just slip up like that on the ice — which Josie promptly ignores. She feels Hope’s stare on her back the entire way back into her position. 

She waves off her coach’s worried questions from the sidelines and sets herself to finish the rest of the routine.

“Maybe you shouldn’t-”

Josie does not stay to listen to Hope’s concerned words. Instead, she’s pushing forward, grimacing as her ankle gives a little twinge, and refocuses on her short program. 

At first it seems to go well. She even lands a triple toe loop with seemingly ease. Her ankle holds strong and Josie allows herself to forget about it. 

So it’s completely uncharacteristic, and terribly pathetic, that in the middle of a rather simple step sequence, she trips over her own two feet and practically faceplants into the ice, barely catching herself at the last minute. The sting of ice tears into her palms. 

“Aright, that’s enough! Josie, you’re off the ice for today,” Coach Tig calls out in a strict tone from the sidelines. 

Josie sighs and picks herself up. She looks up at the ceiling in frustration, the lights nearly blinding her, her arms dangling lifelessly by her side, and skates off the ice rink, barely sparing her coach a glance, too angry at her for taking her off the rink for the rest of the day. 

“Sit,” her coach orders her and Josie sits. 

Carefully, Coach Tig takes off her skates and unwraps the elastic bandage around her ankle. Josie doesn’t have to look at it to know it’s swollen. The throbbing is already enough of an indicator. 

A not so gentle finger probes at the tender joint. Josie bites down a hiss. 

“It’s gotten worse,” her coach says with a concerned frown. “Have you been taking care of it? It wasn’t this bad a month ago.”

Josie nearly scoffs, but that’s rude so she just manages to hold herself back. “Of course I have. Ice, elevation, the whole she-bang.”

The frown on her coach’s face only deepens and Josie sort of regrets telling her coach about her old injury even acting up again a couple months ago after the Grand Prix Finals, but she also knows it’s not something she could have hid from Coach Tig. 

Eventually her coach drops Josie’s foot with a sigh and looks down. 

Josie waits, knowing her coach has something to say. 

“Perhaps,” Coach Tig starts out timidly and Josie’s ears are already rushing with blood. She fears she knows _exactly_ what her coach is going to say and she doesn’t want to hear it. 

“Perhaps,” Coach Tig sighs. Tries again. “You shouldn’t compete next mon-”

_“No.”_

Her coach purses her lips at her and Josie knows she wants her to listen to her advice, but Josie can’t. 

“No,” she repeats, finality in her tone. 

“Josie,” her coach lets out another sigh. “With your ankle in the state it’s in, it’ll be better for it to rest. You’ll always be able to compete when it gets better.”

“You can’t tell me I can’t compete,” Josie insists stubbornly. "That's not for you to decide." 

“I’m your coach. And your connection to the Federation,” Coach Tig tells her with an unimpressed look. “Look, just do the smart thing, sit this one out. Wait for the Olympics.”

“No, I’m not sitting this one out!” Josie feels herself getting agitated and forces herself to relax. “Look, I’ll be fine, okay? Besides, we’ve all competed with injuries before. Remember 2015 when Penelope competed with a bad back?”

“This is different. You're taking an unnecessary risk," replies Coach Tig and Josie almost snorts. 

“How is this any different? And how is competing at Worlds unnecessary?” she asks sardonically. 

“I agree with Coach. You need to sit this one out.”

Josie whirls around at Hope, nose flaring with betrayal. “You too?”

“Look Josie, you’re going to get yourself hurt at this rate!” Hope says, in the way she is prone to, all fire, heat, and passion. “Listen to Coach Tig.”

Josie stood up, matching the fire in Hope’s eyes. A small surge of pain shot through her ankle as she put weight on it and Josie resolved herself to not show even a hint of it. “I’m fine. This is my body. Shouldn’t I have the final say?”

“My, my what is going on here?”

Josie feels her heart stop at the voice, a voice she hasn’t heard in over _three months_ except in her dreams. Her body’s turning on instinct. She _needs_ to see her, to see that she is _here._

She almost gets whiplash with how fast she turns her neck, her mouth dropping in shock. 

“Pen-” Her foot twists unnaturally and she falls to her left. Hope catches her before she could hit the ground. 

She watches as the smile on Penelope’s face quirks downwards into a worried frown. The raven haired girl rushes forward in alarm, but Josie waves her off, pushing herself off of Hope. 

“Thank goodness you’re back!” Hope exclaims before Josie can even get a word out. “Maybe you can knock some sense into her,” she grumbles. “Since she clearly won’t listen to us.”

Penelope eyes the three of them warily. “What’s going on?” Her eyes settle on Josie but Josie for some reason can’t bring herself to speak up. She has the distinct feeling that Penelope is going to be disappointed in her when she finds out. 

“Her old injury is acting up again,” says Coach Tig. “It’s been hurting since the Grand Prix Finals.”

Penelope’s eyes narrow on Josie and the brunette does her best not to shrink under the gaze. “I see.” She raises an eyebrow at the girl. “You didn’t tell me.”

  
  


Josie wets her suddenly chapped lips. “I didn’t want to worry you,” she says weakly, averting her gaze. Penelope’s gaze on here feels heavy and this isn’t the way Josie had envisioned their reunion. She envisioned herself a lot less...pathetic feeling. 

“I told her that it would be smarter for her to sit out the competition next month and focus on the road to the Olympics instead but she doesn’t want to,” Coach Tig explains, glancing at Josie with a dry look. “But perhaps she’ll listen to you.”

Penelope purses her lips and Josie waits like an obedient puppy for the verdict. She doesn’t know what Penelope is going to say. Maybe she’ll agree with Hope and Coach Tig. 

But maybe she won’t. If there’s anyone in this world that understands the need to compete, the craving of competition, as if it’s life or death, it’s Penelope Park, the girl who lives and breathes for these things. 

Penelope hums. “I think Josie can make that decision for herself,” she says. Josie looks up in surprise as Hope and Coach Tig both frown. That is not the response they are looking for. 

“I trust her judgement,” is all Penelope says and Josie beams. 

Penelope doesn’t smile back though. She just looks at Josie, her gaze heavy and unreadable and Josie suddenly finds herself unsure about the decision. 


	5. Chapter 5

_US National Training Center_

_February 7th, 2017_

_11:31pm_

It’s late. Josie’s exhausted. The sheets are soft and warm and inviting. Everything’s perfectly comfortable.

But she can’t sleep. 

She turns on her side and finds her face inches from Penelope’s own. Penelope’s eyes are closed and her face is smooth with peace, but Josie knows her well enough to know she’s not asleep yet. So she doesn’t feel as guilty when she breaks the silence. 

“Hey.” Her voice comes out louder than she intends for so late at night and she tries to tone it down. 

Penelope doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even open her eyes. Gives no indication she hears Josie at all, but Josie isn’t deterred. The question comes tumbling out of her mouth. 

“What do you think I should do?” She hates how vulnerable she sounds but it’s nothing compared to how she feels. 

Penelope slowly opens her eyes and Josie watches as they find their focus on her, wishes she could replay this moment over and over. 

For a second, all Penelope does is stare at Josie. Josie patiently waits for the answer, not minding the pause at all. She could stare for days into those eyes if she were allowed to. 

  
  


Finally Penelope shifts so that her face isn’t half blocked by her pillow and Josie feels a hand brush against her stomach, resting by her hip. It stays there as Penelope begins to talk. 

“How do _you_ feel?” 

Josie smiles wryly, because isn’t that just a cheap move, redirecting the question back at her, but she considers the question seriously - she’s unable to do anything else with Penelope staring so earnestly at her like this. She takes a second to try and translate the mess of emotions and thoughts in her head. Tries to listen to what her body and mind are trying to tell her. 

“Tired.” It’s the first word that comes to mind. And just the admission of it weighs Josie down, like she’s been ignoring just how tired she’s actually been and is finally feeling the full brunt of it all at once. She feels her body sink into the mattress but at the same time something lightens in her chest. 

Penelope stays silent, eyes prompting. 

“Really tired,” Josie admits, closing her eyes. She feels the softest of touches ghosting over her arm. She takes a second to revel in it, and draws strength to continue. 

“My ankle hurts when I skate,” she says and is caught off guard with her own honesty, but continues to open up because this is Penelope and if there’s anyone Josie knows she can be completely open with, it’s her. “Has been hurting for a while, actually. But it's not that bad, I think.”

Penelope hums, eyes still staring intently at Josie and Josie knows she’s listening. It’s enough to make her want to be even more honest. 

  
  


“I am scared though,” she says in a smaller voice. Even small injuries, when compounded with a weak mentality could be detrimental. She feels a rush of helplessness coupled with frustration. Her eyes heat with the warning of tears. 

“I want to compete,” she says, forcing down a shudder. Her lips still quaver from the effort and she catches the way brown eyes dart downwards towards her lips before snapping back up. “I really, really, _really_ want to compete.”

“Why?”

Josie startles at the interruption. She stares at Penelope and Penelope stares back. Josie is unable to tell if the girl is joking or not. 

“Why do you want to compete so badly?” Penelope repeats. There’s a burgeoning sort of intensity in her eyes and a hint of _something_ in her tone that Josie doesn’t know what to do with, because obviously Penelope knows why, right? Of course it’s important. Of course she wants to compete - _has_ to compete really. It’s because-

Josie pauses. She fumbles for words, feeling like she’s slipping on ice. Why can’t she put into words why she so desperately wants to compete? 

“You know why,” is what she settles for. 

Even in the dark, Josie can see that Penelope is unimpressed. But what is Josie supposed to do? Go into a spiel how figure skating is her life? How competition is her life? How she has crippling FOMO and a fear of being left behind that isn’t helped by the fact that Penelope seems to be skating further and further away from her grasp? How she’s scared that if she sits this one out, and Alyona surpasses her, then maybe Penelope won’t even look at her anymore? Won’t see her as a worthy rival? How everyone will brand her as someone who’s prime has passed? 

Not to mention, it might be her last time competing at Worlds. That’s always a possibility. Not one that many liked to think about, but a realistic one all the same. An athlete’s future is never set in stone. And her body is only going to get older, heavier, weaker. That’s why every competition is important, every decision is weighted. Josie is not sure she can live with the regret that might come if she sits this competition out. A wasted opportunity to prolong an already short career. 

“I just _need_ to compete. You know the feeling,” Josie says, eyes searching for something in Penelope - a spark of understanding, perhaps. And she _does_ need it. Can feel the crippling desperation in her bones. She just doesn’t know how to voice it to Penelope. But Penelope must understand. After all, she is an athlete too. The raven haired girl practically invented competitiveness. 

Penelope once competed with a broken wrist ligament, two sprained ankles, and a shin splint. She’s competed on injuries far worse than the one Josie is suffering now. If anyone can understand her, it has to be Penelope. 

“I really want to compete,” she repeats breathlessly, heart growing heavy with all the reasons why. She closes her eyes. “But I don’t know if I _can_.”

And that’s it. The truth, the whole truth - all of her insecurities, all of her fears- all out into the open. 

Josie opens her eyes and waits apprehensively for the verdict. 

Penelope sighs and closes her eyes. She tells Josie to do the same. Josie complies without a second thought. 

Under the covers, soft hands reach for hers and Josie meets them halfway, grasps them tightly. 

“You’re scared.” Penelope’s voice floats soothingly into Josie’s ears and it’s instantly calming, like coming home on a cold winter night. “But you know what to do.” 

Josie frowns at that. “I don’t though.”

“You will.” 

She feels Penelope tugging on her hands, so she leans forward, allowing herself to get pulled. She opens her eyes and almost loses her breath when she finds Penelope so tantalizingly close. 

A warm hand cups her cheek, and Josie leans into it. 

“You will know,” Penelope says again. “Just listen. Really listen. To yourself. Your brain might not know the answer, but your body does. Listen to it.”

Josie closes her eyes and tries to listen, but it’s hard with Penelope so close.

She falls asleep before she even realizes. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The next day, Penelope wakes up to an empty bed. She’s disappointed, but she can’t say she’s surprised. She replays the conversation they had last night over and over in head, each time wondering if she should’ve been firmer - if she should just save them all the trouble. 

But no. This is not her decision to make. This is not her lesson to learn. 

Ten minutes later, she stands next to Hope as they watch Josie practice. 

“She shouldn’t compete,” says Hope. Her jaw is stiff and her eyes are hard as she watches Josie skate around the ice like a hawk, looking for any signs of weakness. 

“I know.” 

Penelope knows. Hope knows. Coach Tig knows. Everyone knows. It’s easy to see as an outsider, to make the logical decision when you’re not bound by the same emotional repercussions. 

But Penelope has been on the other side. She knows how difficult it can be to see things clearly. The lure of _now_ compared to the _later_ that might never even come. 

She’s made some risky decisions herself - hidden the seriousness of injuries from her coach, competed in less than ideal situations. She recalls wrapping her ankles and knees so tightly with adhesives they grew numb with the lack of blood flow, the endless number of pain relief patches placed on her back that probably only helped by placebo, the icy-hot sprays, the KT tape, extensive hours of massages and acupuncture, cupping - anything to keep her body in one piece as she pushed it beyond its limits. 

Once during the Grand Prix three years ago, she and another competitor rammed into each other during warm ups. Penelope had laid there on the ice for several minutes, completely disoriented as blood dripped down her chin. She was dragged off the ice, and checked by a medic. 

  
  


Everyone told her not to compete. She didn’t listen. 

She fell down five times in her free, head completely wrapped in bandages, leaving a bloody trail all across the rink. She’d come in second. And afterwards, she had to be rushed to the hospital. All just to qualify for the Grand Prix finals and achieve the never before accomplished feat of being the first woman to win it three years in a row. 

So she’s learned. She’s paid. Is _paying_. And probably will continue to pay for the consequences of her decisions for the rest of her life. 

Penelope doubts she’ll ever be able to wake up without some sort of bodily pain in her joints ever again. Some nights, she can’t even fall asleep because of the pain in her calf. She knows that it’ll only get worse as she grows older. That before every warm up, she must be careful of her ankles and her knees, in case an old injury flares up. That sometimes even running is painful. For now, it’s a small sacrifice. Later in life, she’ll pay tenfold. Now, she refuses to regret anything.

She doesn’t want that for Josie, Josie who deserves everything good in life. 

Hope looks at her with muted frustration. “Then tell her that. Tell her she can’t compete. She’ll listen to you.”

Penelope knows that too but she shakes her head. “She shouldn’t _be_ listening to me.”

She sees Josie leave the ice rink for her break so she descends the steps towards the girl. She doesn’t see the absolutely confused look Hope throws her way. 

* * *

  
  
  
  


“How’s your ankle?” 

Josie flinches as she gulps down the water. Her bottle expands with a small pop as she pulls it away from her mouth and she meets Penelope’s gaze almost defensively. 

“Fine,” she shoots back. Which is the truth. It hasn’t hurt that much today. She made sure to ice it last night and has been more careful today about her footwork. Still, it feels like a lie when it leaves her mouth. 

Penelope doesn’t push any further, just crosses her arms and stares. 

“Why aren’t you practicing?” Josie asks instead. 

Penelope tilts her head and smiles. It’s small and for an answer to such a simple question, somehow unreadable. “I’m on break. No figure skating for a week.” 

Penelope stares and Josie somehow feels like Penelope is waiting for something, waiting for her, but Josie has no idea what Penelope wants. 

Josie frowns. “That’s...new.” A month before competition is usually when they upped the intensity of their training, the last sprint before the final hurrah. Taking a whole week off now, is like practically giving up almost. Josie wonders if Penelope is even taking the competition seriously. 

But Josie is absolutely clueless and Penelope doesn’t say anymore. 

She goes back to practice. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Everyone keeps telling me I shouldn’t compete next month,” Josie says as they get ready for bed. "I don't get the big deal. We've all competed with injuries before. You've - I can't even list all of the injuries you’ve competed with. And it's not like Hope is in tip top shape. She has that whole bad hip thing going on." She sighs. 

Penelope looks up as Josie stops whatever she’s doing and stares helplessly at Penelope. 

“Why aren’t you telling me anything? Don’t you have an opinion?” 

Penelope shrugs. She does have an opinion, but her opinion holds too much weight for it to be just an opinion. 

“Do you?” Penelope asks instead. 

Josie stares at Penelope for a second before resuming brushing her teeth. Penelope watches her for a second. 

“Do you remember 2013 when I first got achilles tendonitis?” Penelope asks. 

  
  


Josie pauses, toothbrush in her mouth as toothpaste spilled out the side of her lips. “Yeah, you still competed, didn’t you? I remember you won the Grand Prix.”

That is true. She did win, ankle brace and all. “Yeah, but not Worlds.”

Josie pauses again, her eyebrows furrowing as she tries to remember. 

Penelope decides to help her out. “It was Ontario. We’d finished the short. I was in first. You were in second by like tenths of a point. You did your little canary routine.” 

Josie chuckles at the memory. “Firebird,” she corrects. “That was a good routine. Was that the year I won?”

Penelope nods. 

“You didn’t compete in the free. I remember now,” says Josie. “You dropped out last minute.” 

Penelope looks down at her hands as she recalls exactly how she felt in that warm up right before the free - the jarringness, the _fear._

“I was going to compete. I had every intention to. Not competing wasn’t even an option in my mind. I warmed up and everything.” She shakes her head. “But I couldn’t do it.” 

Josie remembers. She remembers finding out about Penelope’s disqualification from the judge’s announcement right before the free. She remembers trying to search for her, to find out what happened, but the raven haired girl was elusive. Her coach was absent too. She remembers cornering Penelope after the free, after she’d won, to ask what’d happened. Penelope had merely shaken her head and said that her ankle was acting up. Josie didn’t push any further at the time. 

“I never told you,” says Penelope. “But during warm up, I felt awful. Like I was disassociating almost. I could feel myself going through the movements, but nothing felt right. It was jarring. I was doing my jumps but every jump felt wrong, like I was holding back. And it took me ten more minutes of forcing myself through the routine that I realized I was terrified.” She gives a small laugh. “I almost cried. Did you know that?”

Josie shakes her head. She did not know. Penelope never said. 

“All those years of competing professionally and I’d never felt more terrified. I was so _scared_ at the thought of competing that when Coach asked me if I was alright, because I looked so out of it, I blurted out that I didn’t want to compete. Something was just _wrong_. I had no idea what it was, but I couldn’t compete like that.” 

Penelope presses her lips together. “It’s a good thing too. I had my achilles tendon checked out after the competition and found out that if I had gone and competed, I could’ve completely ruptured it.”

Josie lets the information sink in. A complete achilles tendon rupture is one of the worst injuries an athlete could get. Worse than a broken leg. 

“I don’t think my brain registered it at the time,” Penelope says softly. “But my body definitely did.” 

She tucks herself into bed, finished with her story, leaving Josie to stare at her own reflection, toothpaste still drying on her lips. 

“And that’s coming from someone who competed with a mild concussion,” Penelope laughs dryly. “What I’m saying is,” Penelope says, eyes closed, already drifting off to sleep if her voice is anything to go by. “No one can tell you what to do. Because only you know your body. Only you know what you’re capable of.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Josie skips practice the next morning. Penelope wakes up to a head of messy brown hair and smiles. She rests an arm over the other girl and pulls her closer, sighing in content when Josie snuggles into the crook of her neck. 

They wake up right before lunch, neither saying a word about Josie’s decision. 

Penelope continues not to say anything as Josie leaves her for afternoon practice. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Later that night, Penelope hears someone step out onto the balcony to join her. She knows who it is. It’s after curfew after all. All of the athletes should be asleep, and she’d left Josie snoring in bed, leaving only a handful of people it could really be. 

Out of her peripheral, she sees Coach Tig’s familiar figure step up next to her. Penelope doesn’t turn to acknowledge her though. Instead, she feigns ignorance and keeps her eyes on the shadows of the night in the distance, a half-hearted attempt at prolonging the inevitable. Coach Tig indulges her though, at least for a few moments, in which they stand next to each other in silence. 

“Josie cannot compete at Worlds.”

Not this conversation again. 

Penelope takes a deep breath, prepares herself mentally, and takes a second to dissect the coach’s tone. There’s an edge to it, meaning she’s expecting disagreement from Penelope. She doesn’t get it. 

“I know,” Penelope agrees softly. Truth be told, it's not a bad injury. But at the level they're skating at, it's the mental game that matters. And Josie is wavering. 

Coach Tig turns to her. “If you know, then why did you not dissuade her earlier? She would’ve listened to you.”

“I know,” Penelope says again almost wistfully. And that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? Penelope could tell Josie to ‘jump’ and the girl would only ask ‘how high’. 

Tig stares at Penelope in incomprehension. “So why didn’t you?”

“Because,” Penelope emphasizes. “That’s not good enough.”

“Not good enough?” 

  
  


“Josie needs to decide for herself. She needs to think for herself. To learn to read what her own body is telling her,” Penelope stresses. She doesn’t understand how no one else can see this but her. 

She finally turns towards Coach Tig and sees the worry in her eyes. Penelope is completely sympathetic - she is also worried for her best friend, the person she cherishes the most in the whole world - but she remains firm. She knows she cannot afford to be soft this time. Not anymore. Not after years of turning a blind eye, years of refusing to see her role in the athlete Josie has become, the wasted potential of what Josie could’ve been. 

“How else can she call herself an athlete?” 

Coach Tig remains unmovable though, and Penelope is grateful that it’s only because she cares so much for Josie’s wellbeing. “And if she decides to push herself still? She could end up seriously injuring herself. That would be the end of her skating career. Are you willing to risk that?”

The questions are sharp. They are intended to hurt. They strike true. 

Penelope knows the risk she’s taking. Her eyes are stormy, but it’s clear she’s considered the consequences, has weighed them many times over in her mind. She does not make this decision lightly. She chooses to believe in Josie, chooses to believe that Josie will make the smart decision. It’s everyone else that isn’t giving Josie the credit she deserves. 

“Yes, I am.”

Her resoluteness only seems to rile up Coach Tig even further. 

“And you, as a friend, are willing to just watch as she skates herself to ruin?” Tig presses, voice growing in pitch to match her growing disbelief. “Do you really think Josie would be happier? If her career ends, it’s on you. Is that a burden you’re willing to carry all your life? That guilt that you ended your best friend’s happiness? That you’re the cause of her biggest what if?”

Penelope purses her lips but the rest of her remains steady. Tig sees the answer before she even says it. 

“I am.”

She’s willing to shoulder it all, if only to push Josie to become the athlete Penelope has already robbed of her. 

If things do end up terribly wrong, if Josie remains stubborn and suffers a career-ending - an Olympic-dream-ending - injury, then Penelope is willing to take all the blame, all the hate, all the guilt of knowing she is the one responsible for the death of her best friend’s happiness and hard work. 

It would break both of them. 

But Penelope refuses to believe in that outcome. She has hope that Josie knows better. She knows Josie can be better. All she needs is for Josie to see the same. 

“Why are you doing this?” Coach Tig asks calmly and it’s this eerie calmness that tips Penelope off. “Is this because you actually care about Josie...or is it because you just want a rival, someone to challenge you and Josie is the only one that’s eligible, the only one that’s within your reach, the one that’s moldable?”

Penelope stares at her old coach, disbelief etched into her face. 

  
  


“Don’t think I don’t know what game you’re playing here. I practically raised you. Do you know the risks you’re taking? Can you truly claim you’re being selfless here? Or are you willing to sacrifice your _friend_ Josie for your _rival_ Josie? Which is it?”

Hot rage unlike Penelope has ever known before rises in her. 

“Of course not! JoJo is my friend first! I care for her! I would give up my _entire_ figure skating career for her!” 

The words come tumbling past her lips without a thought, but Penelope is even more surprised to realize she doesn’t want to take the words back. Conviction runs through her, hot and pulsing. As heavy as the words are, they are also true. She would break both her legs and never skate again if it would satisfy Josie somehow.

It’s only at the sight of her ferocity that Coach Tig backs down and deflates. 

“Just, have some faith in her,” Penelope says stubbornly. “No one ever gives her enough credit and that’s why she’s struggling now. Josie is a smart athlete. A great one. She wouldn’t have gotten this far if she wasn’t.”

Coach Tig sighs, rubs at her eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She pauses. “It’s just easier, you know? To hand hold them.”

“You can make great athletes by taking shortcuts,” says Penelope. “Ones that win competitions. But they disappear, written off into history as soon as their glory days are over. The real game changers of a sport are the ones who learn to think for themselves, the ones who learn to question the sport itself and see it as more than just a sport.” She turns to look at Coach Tig. 

“Josie is one of those athletes. She just needs to realize it for herself.” 

Coach Tig looks skeptical, because these are some pretty big declarations Penelope is making. To last in history? For generations to come? The idea is so difficult to grasp. So beyond her own scope. 

She supposes it’s only suitable that someone like Penelope is able to think like this.

“I received a call from the Federation today,” Coach Tig says instead. “They told me you’re not competing this time either.”

Penelope regards her ex-coach out of the corner of her eyes. “I’m not,” she admits carefully.

“Why?” Coach Tig is unable to keep the surprise from her voice. Every time she thinks she has Penelope all figured out after ten years of watching her grow up, the girl goes and surprises her again and again. 

Penelope gives a small shrug, a gesture of uncertainty, but there’s nothing wavering in her words or stance. “I’m not ready,” she says simply. “My routines are not ready. My body isn’t ready.”

Tig gives Penelope an appraising look. “You didn’t mention this earlier,” she observes. 

“I did not.” 

“A deliberate move on your part, I’m sure.”

Penelope averts her eyes and remains mum but Tig knows she’s right in her assessment. She knows Penelope is smart enough to see the situation accurately for what it is.

“With you and eventually Josie dropping out, Hope will become the only skater eligible to represent the US at Worlds. You know what that means, right? The number of figure skaters the US can send to the Olympics next year _depends_ on the standings of _this_ Worlds. So unless Hope wins first, we’ll only be able to send _two_ skaters to the Olympics, the Olympics which we’re _hosting_ by the way, and I don’t think it would be fair to not include Hope since she is going to be the one to guarantee the spots in the first place. And as much as I believe in Hope’s ability as a skater, we both know she won’t beat Alyona.” 

Penelope understands the implications. If both of them don’t compete next month, then either her or Josie would not be able to go to the Olympics.

One of them would have their life dreams crushed before they even got the chance. 

How cruel. 

Penelope chuckles under her breath and turns to leave. She’s known she’s had no choice ever since she witnessed Josie’s fall on ice earlier this week. 

“Where are you going?” Coach Tig calls after her. 

Penelope doesn’t stop. She merely holds up her phone. “I have a call to make and some plane tickets to reschedule. Clearly, my vacation has just been cut short.”

It takes Coach Tig a second to fully read into her words, but once she does, she allows herself to breathe a small breath of relief. She gives Penelope a brief nod of gratitude even though the girl is already gone. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m not doing this for you.”

The words may sound terse, but Coach Tig knows the affection hidden in them. 

* * *

  
  
  


Penelope eyes the Canadian number on her phone screen, briefly calculates the time difference between here and Canada, before pressing the call button. It rings five times before the call goes through. 

“Coach,” Penelope greets dryly. 

Brian hears her tone and huffs. “What is it? Please don’t tell me you got injured.” He’s joking but he’s unable to completely hide his worry. 

“No, nothing like that,” Penelope shakes her head though she knows Brian can’t see. “But it seems like we’ll need to prepare for next month after all.”

It takes Brian a second to understand. “You’re competing?” Brian asks, understandably confused. “What happened to ‘too much self-respect’ and your dislike of ‘half baked routines’?” It’d been less than three days since Penelope left for the US. What had happened in such little time to warrant such a big change?

Penelope chuckles wryly. “There are some things more important than self-respect. I’ll be back in Canada in two days. See you Wednesday morning at seven am for practice.”

“Wha-wait a minute, you can’t just-” 

Penelope ends the call, leaving a bewildered Brian staring at his phone. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Josie frowns when she sees the luggage bags by Penelope. 

“I thought you said you were staying for the whole week?” 

She’s not ready for Penelope to leave yet. Then again, she never is. But as always, something pulls Penelope away just when Josie needs her the most. 

Somehow this goodbye feels heavier than their previous two.

Penelope offers a small smile that gives absolutely nothing away. Josie wonders when did Penelope become even more difficult to read. The girl was puzzling before. Now she’s a complete enigma. 

“You know me,” Penelope says. “I get restless when I don’t practice for more than three days.”

Josie frowns. Penelope isn’t even trying in her lies. “You can practice here.”

“My Coach is back in Canada,” Penelope replies easily and naturally. Yet Josie can still tell there’s more to it. 

“So I guess I’ll see you next month at World’s then?” Josie offers. 

The smile Penelope gives her this time is the saddest Josie has ever received. She doesn’t hear the muttered, “Hopefully not,” that slips out of Penelope’s lips as she leaves. 

* * *

  
  


For the next few days, Josie stews in her decision. She doesn’t listen to any of her coach’s concerns or Hope’s. She lets their opinions roll over her shoulders and instead tries to listen to herself. This is not their decision after all. But what is her body trying to tell her? 

After practice, she lies flat against the ice, eyes squinting up at the blinding lights, the blood still rushing in her ears from practice. Her ankle throbs lightly, a constant reminder of the impending decision. 

She closes her eyes and listens - imagines that she can feel every cell in her body and relishes in the cold that seeps into her body. Slowly, her breathing evens out. She doesn’t know how long she lays there, could be a couple seconds, could be ten minutes. 

Once she opens her eyes, she knows her decision. 

And now that she’s made it, Josie will stick to it. No more wavering. 

  
  
  


* * *

_Vancouver, Canada_

_February 17th, 2017_

_7:32am_

It’s a week later when Penelope comes off the rink to a text message from Josie. If she were being honest, it’s three days later than Penelope is expecting. But at least it’s here. 

_‘I’ve decided not to compete.’_

Penelope lets out a sigh of relief. There’s another text. 

_‘So I guess I won’t be seeing you next month T.T‘_

Penelope lets out a small chuckle. Why does Josie have to be so darn cute?

_‘If you haven’t refunded your plane tickets yet, may I remind you that it’s your turn to come visit me from across the world.’_

She turns off her phone, tucks it into her bag and goes back to practice. Even if she is going to compete with a toned down version of her new routine at Worlds, she is going to make sure it's as flawless as possible and not at all half-baked. Especially if Josie is going to be there, cheering her on. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually used to be an athlete, not figure skating (just a fan lol), but all of the injuries described here? I've had and competed with. Let's just say, it's not fun, and competing with an injury totally changes the mental game. The achilles tendon story is mine and true. Unfortunately for me, I stopped listening to my body a year after that incident and completely snapped it during practice. So, this story is heavily inspired by my childhood and time as an athlete and I just wanted to express some of the mental pressures that goes on in an athlete's mind. 
> 
> The only injury story here that wasn't mine is the head injury one. That is Yuzuru Hanyu's (aka greatest male figure skater everrrr). But yeah, he collided with some chinese skater during a Grand Prix, was bleeding from his head and suffering a bad concussion, competed, fell five times, and came in second. What a guy. 
> 
> Anyways, this is the last chapter I have pre-written. The last two will come later, so I'm going to have to ask you guys to be patient.


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